

I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

i^ap.— - ©opprigfjt 1^0.- 

Slielf„C2..^At 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 







4 




I 


f - 


« • 





r 



I 





g&tltiSiiiS 



I 

C 


¥ . 


% 


4 


t 



















< 1 ^ 


^ -O 




• '*« : 



.■ ■‘•.J iV^ • "litSi 


■; V' > 

*4:.< ‘ 








4.* 




*-3 






'■'i' 


• » 








V-’^ S ,»S' 


LJt^SP 






- . 




THE HUMBLE VISITORS TO THIS ROOM MIGHT WONDER 
THAT ITS OCCUPANT SHOULD CARE FOR SO MUCH 
READING.”-Page 35. 



3 


THE ATTIC 


TENANT. 


BY 



MARY DWINELL CHELLIS, 


Author of “The Winning Side,” “The Turning of the Wheel,” “Miss 
Belinda’s Friends,” “Profit and Loss,” “Bread and Beer,” “Our 
Homes,” “All for Money,” “From Father to Son,” “The 
Brewery at Taylorville,” “The Brewer’s Fortune,” 

“Wealth and Wine,” “Aunt Dinah’s Pledge,” 

“ The Temperance Doctor,” “ The Old 
Tavern,” “ Six Dollars a Week,” 
etc., etc. 



NEW YORK : 


The National Temperance Society and Publication House, 

58 READE STREET. 


1890. 



V'Z.'^ 


COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY 

The National Temperance Society and Publication House. 


f f 


EDWARD O. JENKINS SON, 
Printer and Electrotyper ^ 

*0 NORTH WILLIAM ST., NEW YORK. 




CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. A, Strange Life, 5 

II. The New Landlord, 13 

III. On Trial, 23 

IV. Stoker Judd, 32 

V. Western Property, 42 

VI. A Drunkard’s Wife, 51 

VII. Terry Brennan, 62 

VIII. An Anniversary, 72 

IX. Found and Saved, 83 

X. Sam Eyder, 94 

XI. Two Hundred Dollars, 103 

XII. Banished, 112 

XIII. Welcome Guests, 122 

XIV. Father’s Shop, - 132 

XV. A Neighborhood School, 142 

XVI. The Meeting, 153 

XVII. Three Boys, 163 

XVIII. Saloon Attractions, 172 

XIX. A Wheel within a Wheel, 182 

XX. Winnie Moran’s Heaven, 191 

(3) 

I 


4 


Contents, 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXI. Good News, 201 

XXII. Mrs. Daly’s School, ---210 

XXIII. Poor Molly, 219 

XXIV. One of the Helpers, 229 

XXV. The New Chapel, 240 

XXVI. Old Tremlow, 250 

XXVII. Out op Place, 260 

XXVIII. Cousin Lawrence, 269 

XXIX. Allan Schuyler, 279 

XXX. A Revelation, 290 

XXXI. How They Met, 297 


t 


THE ATTIC TENANT. 


CHAITEK I. 

A STRANGE LIFE. 

Stark Dabney was a strange man, living a 
strange life, and dying a strange death. For 
twenty years lie had occupied a commodious 
brick house with only a far-off cousin as house- 
keeper and companion ; and in all that time no 
guest had sat at his table, or found shelter for a 
single night under his roof. 

At first, his cousin, Janet Burgen,had rebelled 
against this isolation, but finding herself power- 
less to effect a change, she submitted without 
remonstrance. She was too poor to quarrel with 
a position which gave her comparative inde- 
pendence. Her wages were promptly paid, and 
her wants being few, she had been able to save 
what seemed to her quite a fortune. 

The city papers announced the death of Mr. 
Dabney, a wealthy business man, and a large 
owner of real estate in the western part of the 
city. While some allusion was made to his pe- 

( 5 ) 


6 


The A ttic Tenant, 


culiaritles, he was yet praised as a man of honor 
and sterling integrity. 

To say that he was followed to the grave by 
mourning relatives would not be true; since 
with the exception of his housekeeper, there 
were only a niece and two nephews, who had 
been summoned from a distance and who saw 
him for the first time as he lay in his coffin. 

He had disapproved of their mother’s mar- 
riage, and from that time ignored her existence. 
While her husband lived she made several at- 
tempts to conciliate him, but after she became a 
widow, with three children dependent upon her, 
she was too proud even to seem to ask a favor. 

He knew of her husband’s death and her sub- 
sequent poverty, but if he ever thought of her 
more kindly he made no sign. He was notified of 
her death, over which he shed some tears in secret, 
yet relaxed not one whit of his stern silence. 

It was Janet Burgen who sent for the sister’s 
children to attend his funeral, hoping that he 
had made no will to alienate the property from 
those to whom she considered it rightfully be- 
longed. Eemembering their uncle’s unkindness 
to their mother, whose memory they revered, 
they came reluctantly; and when, after some 
delay, it was found that no other could lay claim 
to a single dollar of the large estate, they hardly 
rejoiced at their good fortune. 


7 


A Strange Life. 

Stark Galvin, the eldest, who had been named 
for his uncle, although but twenty-two years of 
age, had a clear head for business. He managed 
the finances of the family ; earning, too, most of 
their support. His mother had trusted in him, 
while his brother and sister considered him well- 
nigh perfect. 

From a child he had been self-reliant and self- 
sacrificing ; denying himself, that he might have 
more to bestow upon those he loved. His father 
had left them to his care, and never did he allow 
any selfish desire or ambition to turn him from 
his duty. 

With less of physical strength, he would have 
utterly failed in this, despite his best intentions ; 
but he possessed a vigorous constitution, unim- 
paired by vices or excesses, and was thus able 
to meet the demands made upon him. 

His mother’s death was a terrible blow, yet 
he put aside his own grief, that he might com- 
fort his brother and sister, who clung to him al- 
most despairingly. 

Of the years which followed it is sufficient to 
say that they were years of labor and consequent 
development in which the little household re- 
mained together, each bearing part of the com- 
mon l)urden, and sharing the common privi- 
leges 

They knew of their uncle, as their mother 


8 


The Attic Tenant. 


had often talked of him, and always with kind- 
ness, although he had cast her out of his life. 
Having abjured the faith of his fathers, perhaps 
it was not strange that he should be angry at 
the marriage of his sister with one whom he 
styled “ a superstitious fanatic.” 

‘‘We must not think hardly of Uncle Stark,” 
said Varney Gralvin, as he was standing with 
his sister in his uncle’s library. “ Mother loved 
him and prayed for him as long as she lived. 
He has gone beyond our prayers, but we can 
forgive him. We must forgive him, or we have 
no right to expect God to forgive us.” 

“ I used to be afraid, sometimes, to repeat the 
Lord’s Prayer, when I felt wicked to anybody, 
because I thought if I did it would be the same 
as asking God to punish me. I have not offered 
that prayer once since I came here until last 
night.” 

“ I dreamed I saw mother, and she talked to 
me just as she used to. She laid her hand on. 
my head and said now was the time to prove 
whether I was a Christian. It was not strange 
I should dream that, because I have thought of 
mother so much since we came to this house.” 

“I am sure we have all thought of her. We 
can never forget such a mother as she was, and 
I cannot understand how Uncle Dabney could 
treat her as he did. Cousin Janet says he must 


9 


A Strange Life. 

have thonght of her, although he never men- 
tioned her name.’^ 

“ I wish Cousin Janet was more like mother, 
but we must make the best of her as she is. She 
says she used to think she was a Christian, but 
it is so long since she has been to church, or 
heard anybody talk about the Bible, she has 
grown to be almost a heathen.” 

“ Cousin Janet is not at all like a heathen,” 
said Mercy. “ She is a good woman who has 
had a hard time in life without having many 
to love her. When we were the poorest we 
loved each other so much, that the little 
we had seemed a great deal. Cousin Janet 
was poor and alone when Uncle Dabney asked 
her to come and keep house for him, but she 
says she was never more alone than she has 
been here.” 

“ It must have been dreadful for her, and now 
she thinks she is too old-fashioned to live with 
young people, like us, but I would not have her 
go away for anything, would you, Mercy ? ” 

Of course I would not, I want her to stay 
and be happy. I don’t care for her being old- 
fashioned. Some old-fashioned things are bet- 
ter than the new-fashioned.” 

Notwithstanding Janet Burgen had been as- 
sured again and again that her young cousins 
desired her to remain with them, she felt sadly 


lo The Attic Tenant. 

out of place in the bustle incident to new ar- 
rangements and more cheerful living. 

Windows long closed were opened, and shut- 
ters drawn back to admit air and sunlight. 
Carpets, moth-eaten and mildewed, were taken 
from damp, mouldy floors and subjected to thor- 
ough cleansing. Piles of cast-off clothing were 
removed from closets where it had accumulated 
for years ; Mercy Galvin meanwhile expressing 
surprise and regret that it had not been made 
useful in clothing some poor boys. 

“So many mothers would have been very 
thankful for it,” she said. “ Why, I know a 
woman who has five boys to clothe and feed, 
and who would consider herself rich with even 
one of these suits of clothes. Poor as we were, 
mother used to manage to help her, especially 
after Varney grew to be so tall that Stark’s 
clothes could not be made over for him. These 
garments are all of nice material too.” 

“Yes, your uncle always dressed well,” re- 
plied Cousin Janet. “ He never wore a garment 
after it was at all shabby. It made me feel bad 
to see things going to waste as they did ; and I 
asked him once if he didn’t know somebody 
who would be glad of the clothes he had done 
wearing, but he didn’t make me any answer, 
and I knew I wasn’t to say any more about it. 

“ He never dictated me about the food that 


A Strange Life. \ i 

was left over from the meals, and he never 
wanted anything to come on .to the table the 
second time. 8o I gave it to Mrs. Ryder, who 
did the washing and scrubbing. It was a great 
help to her, and she was a great help to me too. 
When she died I felt as though I had lost a 
friend. 

I have changed washerwomen a good many 
times since then, but I have never found another 
like her. The one we have now is better than 
most of them, and I think she makes good use 
of what is given her, but Mrs. Ryder was the 
greatest economist I ever saw.” 

“ I don’t think she could excel my mother. 
Cousin Janet Mother would put a good din- 
ner on the table for us all, when it seemed to 
me there was hardly enough in the house for 
one. I presume we lived on less than you gave 
away from the kitchen, and it must have been 
much plainer food too. Before I came here I 
knew what it was to pinch and contrive so that 
I could make one dollar do the work of two or 
three. 

Why, Cousin Janet, I used to plan how to 
save a single cent. We always planned for that 
ever since I can remember ; and now it seems so 
strange not to do this. I can hardly realize that 
I am the same Mercy Galvin who clap":)ed her 
hands with delight when Stark told her he 


12 


The Attic Tenant, 


could afford an extra dime for Sunday’s dinner. 
Mother always planned to have a little treat on 
Sunday, if it was nothing more than an orange 
or apple cut in quarters. Sometimes I cannot 
help wishing she had lived until now, although 
I know she has infinitely more than this world 
could ever give her.” 

“Then you would not call her back if you 
could ? ” 

“ I do not know. I am glad I cannot be put 
to the test. It seemed to me I must die witli 
her. If Stark had not been so good, I could 
never have borne my grief. He has been fathei* 
and mother both to me. Varney, too, has done 
all he could, but he cannot be like Stark.” 

“ It must be that you all did what you could 
for your mother ? ” 

“ She was always our first thought. Father 
taught us that. I cannot calculate how muck 
she lost in marrying my father, but I know she 
gained a true and tender friend. He was de- 
voted to her in every way. Stark is like him 
in many things, but it must be that he was 
never so shrewd a business man as Stark is 
likely to be.” 


CHAPTEE II. 


THE HEW LAHHLOEH. 

Twenty cottages, eacli the counterpart of 
nineteen others ; each containing the same num- 
ber of rooms arranged in the same order. 
Twenty families occupied these houses, some 
member of each family having been employed 
by Mr. Dabney. 

The street was comparatively new, but the 
shade trees had already made a vigorous growth, 
while the little gardens were aglow with bud 
and bloom, and the low porches were covered 
with vines. At the foot of the pleasant street, 
named for the owner of the land, was a common 
where children played, and older people rested 
on comfortable benches. 

“ These are the best houses for workingmen 
in the city,” remarked one gentleman to another 
as they were passing through Dabney Street. 
“ The builder deserves to be remembered grate- 
fully for these if for nothing else. Every fam- 
ily is by itself, and I have been told that the 
rent is so cheap, as to be quite within the means 

(13) 


The A ttic Tenant. 


H 

of any industrious man. Now that the property 
has come into other hands, it remains to be seen 
what will be done in future.” 

“ Have you seen young Galvin, who is under- 
stood to be the business manager ? ” 

“ I saw him at our church prayer-meeting last 
week with his brother and sister. I did not 
know who they were until after the meeting, 
but I noticed them particularly because of their 
singing. They are all fine singers, and they will 
be a great help if they continue to come. I did 
not see them in church, but they may have been 
there.” 

“It must be they do not share their uncle’s 
religious or non-religious opinions. He pro- 
fessed to believe the Bible a fable, and religion 
a foolish superstition.” 

“I know that he did, although he was not 
given to intruding his opinions upon others. 
At one time I determined to speak to him on 
the subject of personal religion. He listened to 
what I said ; then, without making any reply, 
left me abruptly, and afterwards avoided me, 
as if fearing contamination. A.s a Christian, he 
might have been one of our grandest men, ex- 
erting a strong infiuence for good. Not being 
a Christian, he was really opposed to the best 
interests of society.” 

“ Do you consider the infiuence of every man 


The New Landlord, 


15 


who is not a Christian injurious to those about 
him ? Suppose him to be strictly moral and up- 
right, generous and charitable, ready for every 
good word and work, and — what will certainly 
count with you — a thorough-going temperance 
man ; would you call such a man a bad man ? ” 

No, I should not ; but a man may be all 
that, while failing of his duty to God, and thus 
not living at his best. Mr. Morris, I wish you 
were a Christian.” 

I am not sure but I wish so myself. If not 
a Christian, I am not an infidel. I believe the 
Bible to be a revelation from God, and I know 
that I am under the most sacred obligations to 
obey its precepts. I fully intend to be a Chris- 
tian before I die.” 

Here the two gentlemen parted, each going 
his way to the bustle and activities of business. 

Later, there walked down the -same street 
Mercy and Varney Galvin, stopping wherever 
there was an opportunity to speak a pleasant 
word or ask a question which might lead to fur- 
ther conversation. 

Have one of my posies, pretty lady,” said a 
child, looking up into Miss Galvin’s face with a 
winning smile. Mr. Dabney planted them for 
me, and I was going to give him some flowers 
to pay him, but they have buried him up in the 
ground, and I sha^n’t ever see him again.” 


i6 


The Attic Tenant, 


These last words were uttered with a sob, 
when the child’s mother came forward, express- 
ing the hope that the young lady would not be 
oif ended at her little daughter’s boldness. 

“ Margie has grieved so because she could not 
give some of her flowers to Mr. Dabney, that 
she offers them to people who are going by. 
Mr. Dabney was that fond of her, he always 
stopped to speak with her. I don’t know about 
the new ones who have come to take his place, 
but he was a good landlord, and just to every 
man working for him.” 

“We are glad to hear that, for we are two of 
the new ones who have come to take his place,” 
answered Mercy, as she took the flowers which 
were offered her. 

“ Oh, Miss, I never thought it could be, or I 
wouldn’t have spoken as I did,” said the woman. 

“You have said nothing wrong. My brother 
and I had heard of these pretty cottages, and 
we wished to see them for ourselves.” 

“ They are pretty for such as us. Miss, and we 
are minded to keep them tidy because it pleased 
Mr. Dabney. There was never but one differ- 
ent, and she had to go.” 

“ The children have a nice playground,” re- 
marked Miss Galvin. 

“ That they have, and Mr. Dabney said they 
should always have it the same as now. You 


The New Landlord. ly 

miglatn’t have supposed it, but he was good to 
the children.” 

“We are glad to know that, and I trust we 
shall be as good.” 

“ Come again, pretty lady,” cried Margie, as 
Miss Galvin and her brother turned away. 

Mr. Dabney had collected his own rents, and 
was therefore acquainted with his tenants, who 
found him ready to listen to their complaints, 
and comply with their reasonable requests. 

“ Now well be afther havin’ an agint, and 
bad luck to us all whin he comes demandin’ the 
rint,” exclaimed an Irish woman who occupied 
two rooms in the only tenement-house belong- 
ing to the Dabney estate. 

But the agent, if agent he was, proved to be 
less formidable than she had feared, being none 
other than Varney Galvin, who rapped at her 
door, asking politely for permission to come in, 
and afterward presenting her monthly bill for 
rent, which she was ready to pay. 

“ And who may you be ? ” she asked, holding 
her pocketbook tightly in her hand. 

“ I am your old landlord’s nephew,” he an- 
swered. “ It is my business now to collect our 
rents.” 

“ Well, and sure you’re young for that, but ^ 
may be you’re right. If you’re as good as the 
old one we’ll not complain.”.. 


i8 


The Attic Tenant. 


I will be as good as I can,” said tbe new 
landlord with a smile. 

“I’m thinking that will do,” was replied. 
“ But there’s a poor woman just above me that’s 
not been able to do a stroke of \\ ork for going 
on a mont.h, and if she pays her rent to-day, 
she’ll be nigh starvin’.” 

“ Then she shall not pay it. We wish no one 
to go hungry.” 

“ That is good. Mrs. Brennan has had a hard 
time all the winter, but she has saved up her 
rent. She told me so yesterday, ’though it’s 
little enough else she has.” 

“ I am glad you told me of her. I will not 
call upon her.” 

“ She’ll not take that well. The sight of you 
may do her good. She has one boy to work for 
her, that jobs about from daylight to dark. 
He’s bright and quick, but he’s only going on 
ten. Sure, and I beg your pardon, sir, for talk- 
ing so much. My tongue has a trick of run- 
ning on.” 

“ I thank you for talking. Everything here 
is new to me, and I must learn about it in some 
way. We wish to treat our tenants kindly, so 
they will regard us as friends.” 

“ They’ll do that same, and a good-morning 
to you, sir,” said the woman, as Varney Galvin 
bowed himself from the room. 


The New Landlord. 19 

The afternoon of the same day, Mercy Galvin 
called upon Mrs. Brennan, whom she found 
lying on a miserable bed, in a room nearly des- 
titute of furniture. 

“ I have come to see if you will allow me to 
make you more comfortable,” remarked the 
young lady after introducing herself. I heard 
you were sick, and thought perhaps I might do 
something to help you.” 

“ I’ve need enough of more comfort, but I’ve 
no money to pay, and no claim on any like you,” 
replied the sick woman. “ If you’re one of the 
new ones in Mr. Dabney’s place, you must be 
wantin’ the rent.” 

“ I am not wanting the rent, Mrs. Brennan. 
I have nothing to do with that, only to tell you 
that you need not pay any more until you are 
better.” 

But I have it all saved. Miss, and I 
never can make it up if I once run behind. 
Terry — that’s my boy — went without his break- 
fast a whole week, so to be sure and have the 
rent.” 

“ I am afraid you went without too.” 

“Indeed I did, Miss, but I don’t mind it my- 
self. It’s Terry I’m sorry for. Terry is a good 
boy, and what hurts him hurts me more.” 

Mrs. Brennan could not say enough in praise 
of her boy, who was taking care of her, like he 


20 


The A ttic Tenant. 


was a man, and while listening to his praises, it 
was easy for Mercy Galvin to gain the mother’s 
confidence. 

Another, too, was praised, — Stoker Judd, 
who lived in the attic, and who wore his clothes 
so patched, it was difficult to tell what was the 
foundation of them. He had given Terry a 
warm supper, some evenings, when otherwise 
the boy would have fared hardly. He lived 
alone, except for company invited to eat with 
him. 

Mercy was interested ; and the more so, when 
told that Stoker Judd worked in Mr. Dabney’s 
shop. 

“ Terry says he just keeps the fire going and 
stays in the cellar all the time ; so I’m thinking 
that, may be, is why he likes the attic when 
at home,” said Mrs. Brennan. “ He warms his 
bit of dinner where he works, and once when 
Terry was nigh frozen, he ventured in the door 
he had seen Stoker Judd go in, and after he was 
warm, the good man gave him a dinner. Last 
Christmas he asked six boys to his attic, and 
fed them all. Terry was one of them, and it 
was a real Christmas, such as they never had 
before.” 

In the evening Mercy Galvin reported to her 
brothers the result of her visit to the tenement- 
house. 


The New La7idlorcl, 


21 


“ I knew the sick woman had been hungry, 
the minute I looked at her,’’ she said. No, I 
was never really hungry,” she added, in reply 
to Stark’s questioning glance. “ I have seen 
the time when I could have eaten more, but I 
never shlfered for the want of food. We lived 
frugally, but we were none the worse for it. 
Mother knew how to make the plainest food 
attractive and palatable.” 

“ And her daughter learned her secret,” re- 
joined Varney. “ You were a good cook when 
cooking was done under difficulties.” 

“If my brothers were satisfied with my cook 
ing, it was all I desired. Now it seems almost 
wrong to spend so much on ourselves, although 
Cousin Janet thinks we are very economical for 
young people who have come into such a prop- 
erty; but I can never unlearn the lessons of 
economy my mother taught me. She used 
to say the want of good management is the 
cause of much of the suffering among the very 
poor.” 

“ And much of the poverty too. The waste 
of money often makes the want of it. Temper- 
ance, thrift and industry, with good health, will 
ensure a competency, unless there are opposing 
circumstances beyond one’s control.” 

“ Then there must often be opposing circum- 
stances ; for very many people fail to acquire a 


22 


The Attic Tenant, 


competency. You ought not to judge every 
one by yourself, Stark.” 

“ I do not, Varney ; but what I can do many 
others might do. Too often, there is intemper 
ance where there should be temperance, extrav- 
agance where there should be thrift, and idle- 
ness where there should be industry.” 


CHAPTER III. 


01 ^ TEIAL. 

The shop owned by Mr. Dabney had been 
mortgaged to him as security for a debt, and 
the debt not being paid, he had foreclosed the 
mortgage and taken possession of the shop. At 
first he intended to dispose of it as soon as an 
opportunity offered, but finding the foreman 
reliable and competent, he had retained it in his 
possession ; employing the old workmen at good 
wages for them and fair profits for himself. 

He enjoyed visiting the shop ; and although 
talking little, allowed nothing to escape his no- 
tice, from the basement, over which Stoker Judd 
presided, to the finishing room in the upper 
story. 

“ You have ev^ery facility for doing good work 
here,” said Stark Galvin to the foreman, as he 
made his tour of inspection ; looking with the 
trained eyes of a practical mechanic. 

“ There is not a better-equipped shop in the 
city ; neither is there one doing a better busi- 
ness,” was replied. 


(23) 


24 


The Attic Te7tant. 


“ It was my ambition to own and run a shop 
like this, but it would have taken me years to 
earn it.” 

“ You have it now without the earning.” 

“ 1 share it with my brother and sister. These 
responsibilities are all new to me, Mr. Sawyer, 
and 1 shall be glad of any suggestions you may 
see fit to make. I shall do my best, but that 
may not be all it should be. I have my own 
ideas, many of which will probably be opposed 
to those of my uncle.” 

Your uncle was a just man, and more gen- 
erous than most people supposed him to be. I 
will venture to say that no one employed by 
him had reason to complain of being treated 
unfairly.” 

“ That can be said of but few men ; especially 
among those making no pretence to being gov- 
erned by religious principle,” 

“ You profess to be a Christian, Mr. Galvin ? ” 

“ I do. My parents were exemplary Chris- 
tians, who taught, their children that religion is 
the one thing absolutely essential to usefulness 
in this world, and happiness in the world to 
come. All else is of secondary importance.” 

‘‘ And you believe it ? ” 

Certainly, Mr. Sawyer. Do not you ? ” 

I shall believe it when professed Christians 
make it their chief concern to live up to their 


On Trial, 


25 


profession. So far as my observation goes, they 
are as anxious for money and as unscrupulous 
in their methods to obtain it as those who make 
no pretension to caring for religion.” 

“ I am sorry for such inconsistency, but there 
are honorable exceptions, Mr. Sawyer ; and even 
if there were not, the principle remains the 
same.” 

“ Mr. Galvin, would you trust the word of a 
church member sooner than the word of a man 
who ridiculed the idea of church membership ? ” 

“ Certainly I would. I would not trust the 
latter under any circumstances.” 

“ Would you trust a church member sooner 
than one who is indifferent to religion ? ” 

I would. Would not you, Mr. Sawyer ? ” 
answered Stark Galvin ; and as he did so, he 
knew he was to be put upon trial as the repre- 
sentative of religion. 

“ I don’t know. I hardly know why I have 
asked these questions. I had no right to do so, 
and I beg your pardon for my rudeness.” 

You have no cause for regret, Mr. Sawyer. 
I am as ready to discuss the subject of religion 
as any other, and I hope this is not our last 
talk in regard to it. Now if you will explain 
to me a little more fully the condition of this 
business, I shall be obliged.” 

It was easy to explain, because easily com- 


26 


The A ttic Tenant. 


preh ended. Mr. Sawyer was surprised at the 
general knowledge of business displayed by the 
young man. 

“ The men employed here who have families 
live in the cottages on Dabney Street,” he said 
at length. 

“ They do, but we have several young men, 
now unmarried, who will, soon need tenements ; 
and I think Mr. Dabney intended to build more 
houses this season. He talked with me about 
it on two or three occasions. He liked to see 
his workmen well housed, and he wished, too, 
to improve his real estate in this part of the 
city. He considered it a good investment. 
He enjoyed seeing the houses progress, and, 
like the thorough business man he was, he 
knew if the work was well done.” 

“ Strange he should have been satisfied with 
such a home life,” remarked Stark Galvin, when 
speaking of his uncle to Janet Burgen. 

“ I don’t believe he was satisfied,” she an- 
swered. “ He set himself to do it ; and having 
done that, he would not change. I used to 
wish your mother would come here and take 
him by surprise. I thought he would be so 
glad to see her, he would forget all his hard 
feelings.” 

“ She longed to see him, but she would not 
have intruded herself upon him. She prayed 


On Trial, 2 7 

for him, and I used to wonder if all her prayers 
were lost.” 

“ Do you believe any real prayer was ever 
lost % ” 

“ I cannot, if I believe the Bible, yet the re- 
sults are often hidden from us.” 

“ Your uncle may have been a better man for 
those prayers.” 

“ Possibly. My mother certainly was hap- 
pier for them. It was a great relief, and seemed 
to bring him nearer to her.” 

“ If I had prayed, I might have done so much 
better for myself and for your uncle too ; but 
after the first year or two, I was like a machine, 
going round and round, with the days all alike. 
If I had been like your mother, I should have 
held fast to my Bible.” 

“ Hold fast to it now. Cousin Janet. Let the 
past go for what it has been, and make the fu- 
ture w^hat you would have it. We must let 
our light shine, so that others, seeing our good 
works, will be attracted to the religion we 
profess.” 

“ There will be many watching you. Cousin 
Stark.” 

Of this the young man was well aware, and 
as he was always ready to give a reason for his 
faith he was more than willing to answer the 
questions asked by Mr. Sawyer. In fact, he 


28 The Attic Tenant. 

liad intentionally made the remark which led 
to them. 

From various sources he had learned that his 
uncle never intruded upon others the irreligious 
opinions which had made an otherwise success- 
ful life one of isolation from all social and fam- 
ily happiness. Yet these opinions had not been 
without their influence. 

Mr. Dabney was an upright, moral man ; an 
intelligent man ; a man looking well to his own 
interests. People deferred to his judgment in 
all worldly affairs ; why should they not follow 
his example of indifference in regard to relig- 
ion ? He never attended church. Why should 
those in his employ do this ? 

The influence had been silent, yet it was none 
the less potent. It remained for the new man- 
ager to counteract this influence by consistent 
Christian living. 

“ We must do it,” he said to his sister. “We 
are under the most sacred obligations to do it. 
I believe there must have been some especial 
reason for Uncle Dabney’s strange manner of 
life.” 

“ Perhaps Cousin Janet will know,” answered 
Mercy. “ She is not very communicative, but 
she will answer a direct question.” 

When asked, Janet Burgen replied : 

“ 1 know what he told me when I asked him 


On Trial. 


29 

where lie attended church. That was when I 
first came here, before I knew how he felt 
about such things. He said he never went 
inside a church ; that the meanest man he 
ever knew was a church member, who wore 
a sanctimonious face on Sundays, and lied 
and cheated all the rest of the week. He said, 
too, that when he was a boy he knew a man 
who professed to be a Christian, who treated 
his wife and children so cruelly that they left 
him.” 

“ I have heard mother speak of such a man, 
and he deserved to be imprisoned for life ; but 
his wickedness was no reason for disbelieving 
the Bible.” 

“ There is one thing more. Your uncle did 
not tell me, but I heard it in such a way 
that I have no doubt it is true. When he was 
a young man, and away from here, he was en- 
gaged to be married to a young lady who was 
a church member. By the dishonesty of his 
partner in business he lost what property he 
had, and the young lady then refused to mar- 
ry him because he was poor. A compara- 
tively rich man offered himself and she married 
him.” 

“ I never heard mother speak of such a broken 
engagement, but it accounts for his living a 
bachelor,” said Varney. 


30 


The Attic Tenant. 


“ I wonder if the woman was happier than 
she would have been with Uncle Dabney.” 

“ She certainly was not richer. Her husband 
became a drunkard and wasted his property. 
Her children died when they were young, and 
the last I heard of her, she was so poor she was 
not always sure of sufficient food. She was a 
poor, broken-down woman, not much like the 
pretty young girl your uncle loved.” 

“ You think he loved her. Cousin Janet ; and 
do you think he loved my mother ? ” 

“ Certainly I do ; but he had his plans for 
your mother and she disappointed bim. He 
was not one to forgive where he considered him- 
self wronged.” 

“ Probably his disappointment in love made 
him hard and bitter. Of course, he loved the 
woman he expected to marry.” 

“ It seems to me all his loving was selfish,” 
rejoined Mercy, who had listened thus far in 
silence to what had been said. “ He had a right 
to expect a young lady to keep her promise, 
but it was unjust and foolish to judge all Chiis- 
tians by one weak girl or two wicked men. If 
he had loved my mother generously, as a brother 
should, he would have been thankful to know 
she was happy, and glad to give her assistance 
when it was needed.” 

I did not intend to tell you what I have, 


On Trial. 


31 


but perhaps it was best,” said Cousin Janet. 
‘‘I think he prided himself upon making no 
pretensions to goodness. Business ability stood 
for him in the place of religion, and the man 
who could not make money, he considered of 
but small account in the world.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


STOKER JUDD. 

“Stoker Judd, a pretty lady came to see 
mother, yesterday,” exclaimed Terry Brennan, 
after being admitted to the attic, which seemed 
to him the most delightful room in the world. 
“ Her name is Mercy Galvin. She told mother, 
and she is one of the new ones. She said we 
needn’t pay any rent, till mother gets well. I am 
going to pay it sometime, but now we are going 
to keep the money for something else. We had 
all the breakfast we wanted to eat, and we are 
going to have a tip-top dinner.” 

“That is good,” replied the man to whom 
this joyful news had been communicated. 

“ I tell you it is. Mother don’t know it, but 
a good many days when I told her I bought my 
dinner, I didn’t have anything but a little bit 
of scrap and a cent’s worth of crumbs from the 
baker’s. You see, I saved the money for the 
rent.’^ 

“ Now you are going to take it to live on ? ” 

“ If we need it. I had such good luck yes- 
(32) 


33 


Stoker Judd, 

terday, that I bought enough for to-day and had 
some left over. It makes me feel dreadful poor, 
when we don’t have firing and victuals enough, 
Saturday night, to last over Sunday. I just 
pretend then that I ain’t cold or hungry. You 
don’t think that is telling a lie ; do you. Stoker 
Judd ? ” 

I don’t think it is telling a wicked lie,” was 
replied with some hesitation. 

“ You see I couldn’t help it, because mother 
needed all there was; but anyway, I believe 
I won’t need to do it again. It helped mother 
not to feel so bad.” 

^^That was something gained.” 

I tell you it was, and mother feels lots and 
lots better since the lady came to see her. I 
went by the brick house, yesterday, where she 
lives and where Mr. Dabney used to live, and 
it don’t look as it used to. It looks just like 
any other nice house now. Have you seen it \ ” 

^‘Not since Mr. Dabney died. It is out of my 
way to go by there, and I don’t have time for 
that. I am in a hurry when I start out in the 
morning, and when I come home at night.” 

“ I know it. You are always so busy, and so 
good too. I’d been hungrier than I have, if it 
hadn’t been for you.” 

“And I should have been lonelier without 
you ; so we will call it even.” 


34 


The A ttic Tenant. 


^^AIl right. Perhaps sometime I can help 
you a great deal more than I can now. Have 
you had your breakfast this morning ? ” 

“I have had all I wanted; a cup of coflee 
with some bread and cheese.” 

Did you have milk for your coffee ? I got 
a whole quart, last night, and I’ll bring you 
some.” 

Not now, Terry. Coffee does very well with- 
out milk.” 

“But it is better with milk. You said so, 
last Christmas, when you gave all of us six boys 
some.” 

“ That was Christmas, and all days are not 
like Christmas.” 

“ I know it was, and it was the very best day 
I ever saw, but I mean to have lots of good 
days now. I mean to learn to read ever so 
much this summer too. If I try just as hard as 
I can, do you suppose I could ever learn so I 
could read as many books as you do % ” 

“ Of course you can ; I know you can.” 

This assurance so delighted Terry that he in- 
dulged in various expressions and demonstra- 
tions I Deed not repeat or describe. His friend 
had taken especial pains to teach him a proper 
manner of speaking, yet whenever he was greatly 
excited he lapsed into his old habits. As he 
said, they just stuck to him, making him ashamed 


35 


Stoker Judd, 

and sorry. So it was that when he descended 
the stairs to his mother’s room, he felt some 
twinges of shame and regret, 

A stranger, entering the attic he had left, 
would perhaps have looked first at two large 
geraniums, nearly filling the sunny south win- 
dow, and covered with heavy trusses of brilliant 
flowers. I am sure, however, that the second 
object to attract attention would be a rude 
bookcase filled with books, such as only a scholar 
could read. From this, one would probably 
turn to look at the occupant of the room; a 
large, well-formed man, whose face betokened 
strength of character and firmness of purpose. 
There was a history, too, in the face, not easily 
read, yet apparent to those who had eyes to 
see. 

In front of the bookcase was an equally rough 
table, on which were papers and copies of scien- 
tific magazines. The humble visitors to this 
room might wonder that its occupant should 
care for “ so much reading,” but they were too 
ignorant to understand what was thus implied. 

To them Stoker Judd was a good man,” who 
helped them when they were in trouble, and 
encouraged them to do the best; gf which they 
were capable, 

No oiie ix\ the house ever thought of criticising 
hint iinkindly, although there w^s much specu- 


The Attic Tenant, 


36 

lation in regard to him. He earned good wages, 
yet he lived most economically ; doing his own 
washing, cooking, and mending. 

Altogether, Stoker Judd was a remarkable 
man, as Mr. Sawyer told Stark Galvin. 

For ten years, he has done the same work he 
is doing now ; never absent from his post, and 
never talking, except to ask or answer a ques- 
tion in regard to his work. I never see him 
except here, and although I have often tried to 
get from him some expression of interest in what 
interests all other men, I have never succeeded. 
One thing I know. He is out of place. He 
ought to be doing different work. He is in 
every way a reliable man ; a teetotaler of the 
strictest sort, whose influence is all on the side 
of order and good morals.” 

“ Has he any one dependent upon him ?” 

“ If he has, I am not aware of it. He has no 
one living with him.” 

“ I must try and cultivate his acquaintance.” 

“ I hope you will be successful, Mr. Galvin. 
If so, I am sure you will be repaid for the effort.” 

In her visits to the tenement-house, Mercy 
Galvin heard much of this man ; always in 
praise for some kindness ; and on one occasion 
Terry Brennan volunteered to describe the fur- 
niture of the attic, which was “ the very nicest 
place he knew of.” 


37 


Stoker Judd, 

There are some flowers growiug in some 
pots, some shelves with books on them; two 
tables, one with papers on it, two pictures, a 
stove, a bed, and two chairs, besides some dishes 
in a little cupboard,” said the boy, counting 
the different articles on his fingers. “Stoker 
Judd reads, and reads, and reads, and Sundays 
he hears me read and shows me how to write. 
He used to give me something to eat w^hen I 
went up to read, but now I carry him a pail of 
soup. He don’t eat it till I come away, but he 
always says it is good.” 

“ Ho you read the Bible ? ” asked Mercy, after 
some further conversation. 

“ Is it a book with stories in it and words to 
spell ? ” asked the boy in reply. “ I read some- 
times in such a book as that, and sometimes in 
a larger one.” 

“ Why, Terry, don’t you know what the Bible 
is ? ” 

“ How would I know it. Miss, when I was 
never told ? Is it a big book ? ” 

“ Sometimes it is printed so to make a large 
book, and sometimes not. I have a part of the 
Bible in my pocket ; a small book ; and if you 
will promise to read it, I will give it to you for 
your own.” 

“ Indeed I will. Miss, and thank you many a 
time and when the Testament was placed in 


The Attic Tenant 


38 

his hands, he said : “ I never saw any like it ex- 
cept in the store windows, and I never thought I 
could have one without paying a deal of money. 
Til take it to Stoker Judd at my next reading.” 

But I wish you to read in it every day if it 
is no more than one verse.” 

“Then I will do it, Miss, and please may 
Winnie Moran read in it too ? She is that anx- 
ious to learn that she saves scraps of paper, and 
I tell her the words till she remembers them.” 

“ The Testament is yours, and you are the 
one to say if she shall read in it.” 

“ Then I say she shall, and. Miss, you don’t 
know how glad we’ll both be. She comes in 
sometimes of an evening, and Sunday she waits 
for me to come from the attic.” 

“ She’s a poor, forlorn child, living next 
house,” added Mrs. Brennan. “ She’s going on 
two years older than Terry, but she’s only a 
wee bit thing, with great hungry-looking eyes. 
Her mother died when she was a baby, and 
her father took another wife ; a bad woman, 
who gives Winnie only blows and hard work. 
When she gets leave to come in here she’s that 
happy it grieves me to have her go away. 

“ Many a time has Terry shared his supper 
with her, and it’s likely I’m not knowing the 
half. She’s at her reading every odd bit of 
time since Terry told her the letters.” 


Stoker Judd, 39 

“But why is she not in school, Mrs. Bren- 
nan ? ” 

“ Why should she go, Miss, with nothing de- 
cent to wear, and no one caring to send her ? 
In the winter she had only a ragged shawl over 
a dress that was worse, and then there was the 
baby to mind and errands to run. Her step- 
mother will have the drink, whatever it costs, 
and Winnie is sent for it, ’though she hates it.” 

“ Do you mean that ” 

“ I mean the woman is a drunkard, and it is 
gin she will have. Miss. Winnie knows it is 
bad. Terry told her.” 

“And how did Terry know ? ” 

“ I told him. Miss. His father was too fond 
of the drink.” Here the speaker’s voice sank 
to a whisper, as she looked at her boy with 
eyes full of tears. “ He was good and kind, 
but the drink was too much for him.” 

“ Stoker Judd says it is too much for any- 
body. He hates it, and so do I, and I nevev, 
never v/ill drink it,” cried Terry. “ If it wasn’t 
for that, Winnie wouldn’t be cold and hungry ; 
and there’s many another like her.” 

As Miss Galvin made no reply to this, Mrs. 
Brennan said : 

“ In the big houses like this full of people 
there’s that much of money spent for the drink, 
there’s little left for food and firing ; and it’s 


40 


The A ttic Tenant. 


the children that go hungry. There’d be enough 
for all but for that.” 

Mercy Galvin assented to this, yet she was 
thinking more of the one child whose poverty 
had been described than of the many injured 
by strong drink, 

“ If I could see Winnie Moran I might help 
her,” she said. “ I could give her comfortable 
clothes if they would be accepted, and when I 
come again I will bring her a Testament like 
Terry’s.” 

For this the boy could hardly express his 
gratitude. It would be almost better than hav- 
ing a Testament himself. He knew then Win- 
nie would have no more trouble in learning to 
read ; and that this might be proved without 
unnecessary delay. Miss Galvin soon redeemed 
her promise. 

At this call she did not see Terry, but his 
mother had a strange story to tell. 

“ Stoker Judd was that angry about the Tes- 
tament he wouldn’t look at it or hear Terry 
read a word in it, and Terry was that grieved 
he came down crying.” 

“ I am very sorry,” responded Mercy Galvin. 
“ I hoped Stoker Judd was one who loved the 
Bible. I am sorry, but I hope Terry will read 
his Testament.” 

He will. Miss. He told Stoker Judd he 


41 


Stoker Judd. 

knew it was the best book in the world, because 
you said so. He’s at it whenever there’s a 
minute to spare, and Winnie with him. Maybe 
they don’t rightly get all the words, but they 
do their best.” 


CHAPTER V. 


WESTERN PROPERTY. 

In Mr. Dabney’s carefully-kept memorandum 
of all receipts and disbursements, “ received 
from western property” was an important item; 
appearing as it did at the opening of every 
quarter, and representing no inconsiderable sum. 
There was no description of this property where 
it might have been expected, beyond giving its 
location and the name of the agent who had 
been duly appointed to have full control of the 
same, and in whom the owner had most implicit 
confidence. 

At first. Stark Galvin was too much occupied 
with business claiming immediate attention, to 
give much heed to this. But there came a time 
when he knew the mysterious property was 
three-fourths of a distillery, running at its full 
capacity, and making large profits. 

Nothing he had learned of his uncle’s invest- 
ments so troubled him. The idea of receiving 
money from the manufacture of intoxicating 
liquor of any kind was not to be tolerated for a 
moment. 

( 42 ) 


Western Property. 43 

He consulted Ills brother and sister. They 
could not sell their interest in the distillery as 
that would be no better than retaining it. There 
was, therefore, but one way to rid themselves 
of their responsibility. 

‘‘We must buy the other one-fourth, and de- 
stroy everything which makes it a distillery,” 
said Varney, after considering the matter. “I 
suppose the building could be used for some 
other purpose. If not, raze it to the ground, 
and then sell the land on which it stands. Any. 
way, be sure there is nothing left of the distil- 
lery part.” 

“ That is what I had thought of doing, but 
as you and Mercy are equal owners with my- 
self ” 

“ Don’t let us own it a day longer than we are 
obliged to,” exclaimed Mercy, interrupting her 
brother. “I would rather be poorer than we 
ever have been, than live on the profits of a 
distillery. I should feel that every dollar 
brought a curse with it. And don’t let us 
speak of it except among ourselves.” 

“ It will be necessary for me to talk with Mr. 
Hutton about it, in order that I may know how 
to proceed. It will be better for me to have 
some legal advice.” 

“ Mr. Hutton is bound to keep your secrets, 
and I suppose he is to be trusted.” 


44 


The Attic Te7ia7it. 


“Uncle Dabney trusted him, and it would 
not be for his interest to deceive me. Where 
principle is concerned T should trust myself, but 
there are technicalities of law I do not under- 
stand. I consider Mr. Hutton an honorable man.” 

And so he was ; but his standard was lower 
than Stark Gralvin’s, as had been proved on sev- 
eral previous occasions. 

“ If you will allow me to advise you as a 
friend, rather than as a client, I should say : Let 
the property stand as it is. If your uncle had 
not considered it a proper investment, he would 
not have made it. He, not you, is responsible 
for its ownership.” 

“ While it was his, he was responsible. Now 
it is ours, we are responsible.” 

“You did not purchase it.” 

“No, sir; but we must be rid of it.” 

“ To do that, you will probably be obliged to 
make what many people would consider a great 
sacrifice.” 

“ We should make an infinitely greater sacri- 
fice in keeping the property ; for in doing it we 
should sacrifice our self-respect, and principles 
we have been taught to regard as sacred. We 
cannot do that, Mr. Hutton. As for the pecu- 
niary sacrifice, \ve are prepared to make it. So 
far as we can, we have counted the cost and are 
ready to pay it.” 


Western Property. 45 

“ All because of conscientious scruples in re- 
gard to the manufacture of intoxicating liquors.” 

“Yes, sir; that is it exactly.” 

“ Conscientious scruples are always to be re- 
spected, but your withdraw^al from the business 
will have no perceptible effect upon the output 
throughout the countiy. Somebody will fur- 
nish a supply to meet the demand.” 

“ I can believe that, sir, yet all the same we 
cannot share in the ownership of a distillery.” 

“ Then that is settled. There is a good deal 
of feeling on the temperance question in Western 
cities, and bitter feeling, too ; so that the man 
who identifies himself with the reform move- 
ment is liable to suffer some annoyance. I sup- 
pose, however, that fact will have no weight 
with you.” 

“ It cannot have, Mr. Hutton. I have no 
choice in the matter.” 

“ It may be that you are pledged to total ab- 
stinence, with a supplementary pledge in regard 
to the manufacture and sale of intoxicating 
drinks.” 

“We are thus pledged, and our pledges will 
be redeemed.” 

It was not necessary to inquire further in this 
direction. The case was made plain to the 
lawyer, and however he might differ from his 
client, he could not but respect the sterling 


46 The Attic Tenant. 

principle which no assurance of gain could cor- 
rupt. 

It was decided that Stark Galvin could man- 
age the business to his own satisfaction, better 
than any disinterested person with a larger ex- 
perience, and he therefore made hurried arrange- 
ments to go West. He had no acquaintances in 
the city where the distillery was located ; he 
belonged to no fraternity which welcomes all 
members as brothers, even though strangers. 
He had only a letter from Mr. Hutton to a 
leading lawyer, whose services he might re- 
quire. 

Going to a strange place on a strange er- 
rand,” said Cousin Janet. “ If it was anybody 
but Stark, I should expect him to get into 
trouble, but I suppose he wdll come out all 
right. I wouldn’t have believed your uncle 
would have anything to do with a distillery, 
’though he wasn’t such a temperance man as a 
good many. He used to drink a glass of wine 
sometimes, and there is some in the cellar now. 
But anybody who worked for him had to let 
liquor alone. He wouldn’t trust a man who 
drank liquor.” 

I wouldn’t trust a man who made it, or 
sold it,” rejoined Mercy, who was impatient to 
have her brother start on his journey. 

She had no misgivings as to the result of this 


Western Property. 4 7 

journey. Stark always carried bis point, and 
she had faith that he always would. 

It could not be said that he distrusted his 
ability to accomplish what he proposed, yet he 
was aware that he might encounter some diffi- 
culties. Having reached his destination, he lost 
no time in putting himself in a position where, 
without exciting curiosity, he could learn some- 
thing of the agent in which his uncle had such 
implicit confidence. 

“ There is somebody out of sight who is the 
principal owner, but his partner and his agent 
run the concern to suit themselves, and they 
have made a good thing out of it,” said a man 
who had formerly been employed as bookkeeper 
and correspondent in the office of the distillery. 
‘‘ There is a good deal of money invested there, 
and it pays a heavy percentage, but I don’t 
envy those who receive it. I worked for them 
five years, and I wish now I had never seen 
them.” 

“ Excuse me, but are you willing to tell me 
why you wish so ? ” responded Stark Galvin. 

“ I am willing to tell any one who wishes to 
know. It is because I was helping on a terri- 
ble wrong, although 1 did not then see it in 
that light. I had nothing whatever to do with 
the liquor, but I was there to perform a certain 
amount of work for the distillery. If distilling 


48 


The Attic Tenant, 


liquor for drinking purposes is a crime, I was 
accessory to that ciime.” 

“ Distilling liquor for drinking purposes is a 
crime. I do not see how any honest, candid 
man can deny that.” 

‘‘ Of course you know it is denied, and by 
men who claim to be Christians ; men who are 
under the most solemn obligations to live so- 
berly, righteously, and godly in the world. 
The moment I decided to lead a Christian life, 
I knew I must change my business. I had, too, 
an experience, or observation, which impressed 
me more deeply than ever before with the hor- 
ror of drunkenness. This city is no worse than 
others, but the poverty and wretchedness caused 
by the use of liquor is appalling. Liquor, too, 
is the cause of most of the crime, and what 
seems to me now worst of all, Sunday is, of all 
days, drunkards’ day.” 

“And Murphy’s distillery is doing its full 
share in keeping up this state of things % ” 

“ It is ; and last year there was a talk of en- 
larging ; but there was a hitch somewhere which 
prevented.” 

It seemed providential that Stark Galvin 
should have met this man, who was both able 
and willing to give him the information he desir- 
ed. He judged it best to proceed cautiously ; and 
this he did until his plans were Avell matured. 


49 


Western Property. 

He then announced himself and his business ; 
identifying himself by Mr. Hutton’s letter to 
the legal gentleman who was ready to vouch 
for him. Consulting this gentleman at every 
step, he was able at last to effect the desired 
purchase ; and the next day there was one less 
distillery in operation. It was effectually 
killed,” without regard to the loss incurred. 

The agent had remonstrated in vain. The 
workmen were paid and discharged. As Var- 
ney had desired, the building was to be razed 
to the ground. An offer was received for the 
land, which Stark Galvin thought best to ac- 
cept ; and later, when the deed was signed and 
delivered, there was rejoicing in the Eastern 
home. 

“We have not lost half so much as I ex 
pected,” said Mercy, when told the amount. 
“ I am so thankful we are through with it, and 
Stark is home again.” 

“ I knew I was right, and therefore I was 
strong,” he said to Janet Burgen after relating 
some of his experiences. “ When I was a boy, 
I learned to hate every drink which can intox- 
icate, no matter by what name it is called, and 
I did not suppose anything could intensify my 
hate, but I was mistaken. I hate it now with 
a double hatred. 

“We were obliged to live among poor peo- 


50 


The Attic Tenant, 


pie, where we saw before our very eyes the 
misery and wretchedness caused by such drink.” 

The misery is not all among poor people, 
Cousin Stark. The rich suffer as well as the 
poor.” 

I know that, but the rich can conceal their 
suffering. A poor man drunk is seen and 
known ; a rich man drunk is hidden away in 
some well-furnished room, where the shutters 
are closed and the curtains drawn, until he 
shall recover from the sudden attack of illness. 
That is the difference. Cousin Janet, but there 
is no difference in the sin in God’s sight. 
Hearts, too, are broken in elegant houses, as 
well as in humble cottages, or the close quarters 
where the very poor are huddled wdth small 
regard for comfort.” 

The way in which such people live is dread- 
ful.” 

“ And the most dreadful way I ever saw was 
in the rear of Murphy’s distillery. Thank God 
there is no such distillery now.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


A deunkaed’s wife. 

“ Cousin Meecy, I wish you would go down 
to the kitchen and talk with Mrs. Bunker,” 
said Janet Burgen. “ She has been telling me 
of a poor woman who needs help I think you 
can give her. The woman has six children ; 
the oldest, thirteen years old, and the youngest, 
six months. That woman is making shirts at 
ten cents apiece, and the oldest child, a girl, is 
at work in a match factory.” 

“ Where is the father ? ” 

In the House of Correction for drunkenness. 
Mrs. Bunker says the woman is a lady ; or would 
be, if she could live decently. She was a tailor- 
ess before she was married ; but of course she 
can’t do nice work now.” 

“ How do they live ? ” 

“ I think it would be hard telling that, 
’though Mrs. Bunker says they are all as busy 
as bees about something ; and they must be a 
great deal better off than when they had a 
drunkard ’round. I thought perhaps you would 


52 


The A ttic Tenant, 


give her some of the clothes that were stowed 
away in the closets.” 

“ I shall be glad to give them to any one who 
will make good use of them. I will talk with 
Mrs. Bunker about it.” 

Mrs. Bunker was ready to talk of her neigh- 
bor, whose name was Miirkland, and whom she 
thought “ worse off ” than anybody else she 
ever knew. 

“ IVe only just begun to know her for my- 
self, but IVe been hearing about her all the 
winter through, when she lived in the next 
house to me. Now she’s under the same roof, 
and the poorest of us all. It’s a wonder she 
keeps her children looking as well as they do, 
’though their clothes are patched till they'll 
hold no more stitches. And the covers for their 
beds are surprising.” 

Bo they have comfortable beds % ” 

Better than none. They have sacks fflled 
with shavings, but a woman told me that Mrs. 
Murkland keeps them dry, and manages, every 
few days, to get them to the sun. She must be 
doing the best she can mth what she has.” 

“ How lon^ has her husband been away from 
her ? ” 

Four months, and two more to stay. I wish 
he was sentenced for life, ’though they say he’s 
a good worker, if it wasn’t for the drink.” 


A Drunkard' s Wife. 53 

I should like to visit Mrs. Murkland, if you 
think she would be willing to see me.’^ 

“ I think she would be willing to see any 
one who would helj) her in doing for her 
children.’^ 

“ Then she will certainly be willing to see 
me. When you go home I will accompany 
you.” 

As yet there was no servant in the house. 
Fanet Burgen managed much as she had for so 
many years, except that she had the assistance 
of a woman who came in now every day. 
Mercy Galvin could not so easily change her 
habits as to give up all domestic occupations. 

It was a pleasure to her to spend a morning 
in the kitchen ; cooking as mother used to,” 
and making nice, palatable dishes, which cost 
so little that they were quite within the means 
of people with a very limited income. Mrs. 
Bunker watched her admiringly; afterward 
putting in practice some lessons thus learned. 

Mrs. Murkland must cook a great deal 
cheaper than that, but Miss Galvin does won- 
derful,” she said, the day she had first spoken 
of this poor woman. “It almost seems as 
though she must cook out of nothing.” 

“She can’t do that, ’though there’s a good 
deal goes for nothing in most families that 
could be cooked so somebody would be glad of 


54 


The Attic Tenant, 


it. But why didn’t you tell me about Mrs. 
Murkland before now \ ” 

“ Because I didn’t rightly know all, Miss 
Burgen. She lived two houses away, and it’s 
only last week she came to the attic of the 
house where I am. Last evening one of her 
old neighbors came to my room and told me 
how it was, and it was worse than I thought. 
All because of drink too. I know what that 
is, but, thank God, my husband has given it uj), 
and before another winter we hope to be living 
diiferent from what we do now. It is full six 
months since he took a drop, and he begins to 
think there is no need of my going from home 
to work. I shall try to help Mrs. Murkland, 
but Miss Galvin can do a hundred times as 
much as I can.” 

Miss Burgen and Miss Galvin both accom- 
panied Mrs. Bunker, when the latter went to 
her home somewhat earlier than usual ; but 
only Miss Galvin climbed to the garret of the 
old-fashioned house. Here a rap brought to the 
door a thin, pale-faced woman, whose sunken 
eyes betrayed a want of sleep, and overwork. 

I am a stranger, but I wished to see you,” 
said the visitor. 

“ Then please to come in,” responded the 
poor woman, as she threw open the door, re- 
vealing an interior so bare of furniture it 


55 


A Drunkard^ s Wife. 

seemed impossible that a family could live 
with so little. 

There were two chairs ; one of which was 
offered to Miss Galvin, with no apology for the 
fact that it had been broken and rudely re- 
paired. It was accepted with thanks, when the 
occupant said : 

“ Mrs. Bunker told me of you, and she thought 
I might be able to engage you to do some sew- 
ing for me. I have several suits of clothes, 
men^s clothes, which might be made servicea- 
ble, if any one could be found who would un- 
dertake the work. Some of them have been 
left in close closets until they are defaced, but 
many are in good condition.” 

“ Are they to be repaired, or remade ? ” asked 
Mrs. Murkland. 

That depends upon those who are to wear 
them. There is enough material to clothe a 
large number of boys. Mrs. Bunker thought 
you would know what to do with the gar- 
ments.” 

“ I ought to know, but I have done coarse 
work so long I might not be able to suit you ; 
and besides, I am so often interrupted by my 
children, I could not attempt any work requir- 
ing much care.” 

The woman’s words were well chosen, and 
her manners were far from coarse ; but her 


The Attic Tenant. 


56 

clothing was of the poorest and scantiest, while 
her embarrassment was most pitiful to behold. 
At length, and with a great effort, she said : 

I am poor ; terribly poor ; but I am doing 
the best I can to keep a shelter for my children. 
If I give up the work I am now doing, I might 
not be able to get it again, and I know of noth- 
ing else I can do as well. I have never begged, 
and please God I never will, unless my children 
are starving. With all we have suffered, we 
have not come to that.” 

I am very sorry for you,” responded Miss 
Galvin. It is hard to be poor. I know what 
it is to live closely, and ” 

Excuse me, but your poverty and mine 
must be very different. You cannot have lived 
as I have lived, or suffered as I have suffered. 
But what am I saying ? I have sat here at 
work, thinking what I have done and what I 
shall do, until I have almost lost control of 
myself.” 

Here the speaker covered her face with her 
hands and burst into tears. Only for a mo- 
ment, however, did she thus indulge herself. 
Her children might come in, and for their sakes 
she must maintain something like cheerfulness. 
Presently a Ioav wail . from an adjoining room 
called her attention ; and at the same time the 
patter of feet was heard on the stairs. Four 


57 


A Drunkard'^s Wife. 

children came in, each carrying shavings or bits 
of wood in baskets which had been thrown 
aside as useless by former owners, but which 
they had ingeniously made serviceable. Hid- 
den under the shavings were crusts of bread 
found in garbage heaps ; but this Miss Galvin 
did not know until long after, when she had 
won the entire confidence of mother and chil- 
dren. 

She soon took her leave ; not, however, until 
Mrs. Murkland had promised to come to the 
house the next morning, where she appeared at 
an early hour; dressed poorly, and yet with 
evident care. 

“ Why, here is enough to stock a second-hand 
clothing-store,” she exclaimed, when shown into 
the room where the suits were displayed. 

These are of the best material, too,” she added 
after a slight examination. “ They ought to be 
sold as they are unless they are moth-eaten, so 
to injure them.” 

“ Please examine them carefully,” responded 
Mercy Galvin. I wish you to make a suit of 
clothes of the thinnest material here for each of 
four boys, so they can have them to wear on 
Sundays through the summer. The garments 
will first need to be ripped, so there will be no 
trouble in cutting ; and after you have done 
the ripping, I will have the suits cut by a 


The Attic Tenant. 


58 

tailor. There may be pieces left, and those 
yon can use as you please ; perhaps for your 
children.” 

“ You are right about it, Miss Galvin. It is 
always best to have a smooth piece of cloth to 
cut from. There is nothing gained by trying 
any other way.” 

“ That is what my mother used to say. And 
now take plenty of time to examine these goods. 
When you have decided what is best to use 
first, let me know. Mrs. Bunker will soon have 
her breakfast ready, and she will be glad of 
your company.” 

Mrs. Murkland began to say something about 
having had breakfast ; but when called, she 
did not decline the invitation to partake of the 
appetizing food. 

“ I knew she was thinking of her children, 
and wishing she could give the breakfast to 
them instead of eating it herself,” said her com- 
panion to Miss Burgen when there was an op- 
portunity. “ It did me good to see her drink- 
ing the coffee and eating the cold meat. I won- 
dered how long it had been since she had a 
good cup of cplfee before.” 

It shall not be long before she has another,” 
was replied. I have a basket of cooked food 
ready for her to take home, and what with the 
old clothes and the dresses I shall give her, she 


59 


A Drunkard' s Wife. 

will have enough to keep her busy for a while. 
I am troubled about her girl working in a 
match factory. It must be an unwholesome 
place.” 

“ Of course it is, but the family must have 
her wages. I saw her when she came in last 
evening, and she looked too tired to drag her- 
self up the stairs. I wish she could have a 
place with some good family, where she would 
have enough to eat, and learn what she will 
need to know.” 

A.re you sure she is a good girl, Mrs. 
Bunker \ ” 

I am not sure of anything about her, 
only that she is a poor, overworked child, 
with a poor, overworked mother and a drunken 
father.” 

He cannot drink while he is shut up.” 

“ No ; but when he comes out he will drink 
all tLe worse, to make up for lost time. A 
good many such men are just crazy for the 
drink after they have been shut up away 
from it. It is just terrible for their fami- 
lies.” 

Mrs. Murkland ought not to live with such 
a wretch for a single day.” 

He will find her. Miss Burgen, and then 
what will she do % He might kill her if she re- 
fused to take him into her home.” 


6o 


The A ttic Tenant. 


‘‘ Better be killed at once tkau die a linger- 
ing death. But is there no law to protect a 
woman in such a case as that ? ” 

“ I don’t know much about law, and what 
can a poor woman like her do anyway \ It is 
hard to decide the troubles between a man and 
his wife. A man thinks his wife belongs to 
him, no matter how much he abuses her ; and 
nine times out of ten, he’ll coax her or drive 
her to live with him when she knows she does 
it at the risk of her life.” 

If that is true, a woman better never be 
married.” 

“ Better never be married than marry a man 
who drinks liquor of any kind ; but girls don’t 
think much about such things. I know I didn’t. 
I expected my husband would earn a good liv- 
ing for us both, and provide a good home. Of 
course he promised all that and a great deal 
more ; but if I had waited for him to provide I 
should have been cold and hungry most of the 
time after we had been married a year or two. 
When I buried my babies, I thought I could 
bear anything if they had lived ; but since then 
I have been thankful a thousand times that 
they went when they did.” 

“ Has your husband been so very bad, Mrs. 
Bunker ? ” 

Not bad as some. He never struck me, but 


A Drunkard's Wife, 6i 

hard words sometimes hurt as much as blows. 
He is trying to make up for it all, but I can’t 
forget. What I should do if I had to bear 
what Mrs. Murkland has I don’t know. She 
needs friends, and I hope God will send them 
to her.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


TEEEY BEENNAN. 

Was Stoker Judd an old man ? 

This question had been often asked, and 
never satisfactorily auswered. His face was 
deeply lined, but such lines are not always 
traced by the hand of time. He stooped 
slightly, but his step was firm and his strength 
almost marvellous. 

On more than one occasion Stark Galvin had 
attempted to penetrate the reserve surrounding 
this man, only to find himself baffled. 

“ I can make nothing of Mr. Judd,” he said 
to the foreman of the shop. “ He replies to 
me in monosyllables, and I cannot see that I 
have made any advance toward gaining his 
confidence. There must be something more to 
him than we see. His life cannot all be con- 
fined to a cellar and a garret. He must have 
some outside interests.” 

I have often thought so, but I should not 
presume to ask him a question except in regard 
to his work.” 

(62) 


63 


Terry Brennan. 

It would be of no use. I am convinced of 
that, and so long as he does his work satisfac- 
torily, he has a right to keep his own counsel. 
In her visits to the house in which he lives, my 
sister has heard of his kindness to his poor 
neighbors.’^ 

“ I have no doubt he is a kind-hearted man. 
I have sometimes seen a little fellow walking 
with him, and looking up into his face, as a 
child would look into the face of his father.” 

“ That must be Terry Brennan ; a boy 
whom my sister is much interested. Mr. Judd 
has been teaching him to read and write.” 

He can do it. There is no man signs our 
pay-roll as handsomely as he does ; but I have 
thought sometimes he would be glad if his 
name was not so well written.” 

“ Terry Brennan says he has a great many 
books and papers in his garret.” 

“ I am not surprised at that. I should not 
be surprised to know that he is a college grad- 
uate.” 

As these two were talking there was a cry 
from the street. A woman with a babe in her 
arms had been knocked down by a passing team 
with a careless driver ; and among those who 
heard her cry and rushed to learn the cause 
were Mr. Galvin and Mr. Sawyer. The woman 
was terribly frightened, as was apparent to all, 


The Attic Tenant, 


64 

but it was impossible to ascertain the extent of 
her injuries. She talked continually, yet no 
one could understand a word of what she said. 

Presently Stoker Judd came to the basement 
door, and after standing there for a moment, 
went toward the woman, who was still talking, 
and still clasping her baby, as if she feared it 
might be taken from her by force. 

“ Do you know what she is saying ? ” asked 
Stark Galvin. 

“ She wants to go home,” was replied. She 
is an Italian, and probably lives in the Italian 
quarter. She says she shall be well enough if 
she can get home with her baby.” 

“ Tell her if she will give the directions so I 
can, I will have her taken home at once. I 
will go with her, and see that she has proper 
treatment.” 

For once the stoker was off his guard. In 
his desire to aid the poor woman, he spoke to 
her in her own language, when her face lighted 
up with something like a smile, notwithstand- 
ing the pain and fright with which she was suf- 
fering. After some delay he obtained the nec- 
essary directions, and she was taken home ; a 
wretched home, which would have been simply 
unendurable to one accustomed to the barest 
comforts ; yet knowing no other, the woman 
was content. 


Terry Brennan, 65 

Here Stark Gralvin left her, after having been 
assured by a physician, whom he called, that 
she was not seriously injured. A day’s rest 
would set her right again, and she be none the 
worse for what had happened. Eeturning to 
the shop and going into the basement, he re- 
ported what he had done, adding : 

“ It was fortunate there was some one near 
who could speak Italian.” 

“It is poor Italian that I speak, Mr. Galvin,” 
replied the stoker. “ I was so situated once 
that I picked up a little of the language, and 
that is the most that can be said of my acquire- 
ments in that direction. There are plenty of 
people who could have been called this morn- 
ing, but as my gibberish served its purpose, it 
was well enough for the occasion. The woman 
was not likely to criticise me severely.” 

“ She was in no mood for that, Mr. Judd. 
She only wished to make known her desire to 
go home. How she could call such a room a 
home is more than I can understand ; but for 
the poorest, as well as the richest, there seems 
to be a charm in the very name.” 

“ The poor Italians are very poor, although 
some of them earn comfortable w^ages.” 

“ Then they must spend their wages for some- 
thing besides the comforts of life.” 

“ Many of them spend it for the vilest liquor 


66 


The Attic Tenant, 


that was ever made or drunk. That is the 
trouble with them, as it is with so many other 
poor wretches.” 

“ There is work for reformers.” 

“ You can’t reform the world, Mr. Galvin. 
It wdll move on in the same old way, for all 
what one or two can do.” 

“ There are more than one or two reformers 
at work, Mr. Judd, and if there were not, one 
or two can do their duty. Having done that, 
they will not be responsible for what remains 
undone.” 

Who is to decide when one has done his 
whole duty ? ” 

Each man must decide that for himself by 
the light God gives to him. We have a sure 
wwd of counsel ; a standard and an example.” 

“ I make no pretensions to having standards 
or examples. I don’t need them. I can keep 
the tire burning under this boiler, and that is 
my work.” 

“ That is not your whole work, Mr. Judd. I 
know you do many a kindness for your poor 
neighbors. You should not so disparage your- 
self. Men and women should count for all they 
are worth. Each has his or her place to fill in 
the world.” 

“ Yes, Mr. Galvin, and my place is that of 
stoker for this establishment until I am dis- 


Terry Brennan. 67 

charged from it by my own will, or the will of 
somebody else.” 

The speaker could hardly have said more 
plainly that he was tired of such moralizing ; 
a fact his companion was not slow to perceive. 
He wished to be left to himself ; having no de- 
sire to be praised, and careful to give no cause 
for blame. If it had been possible he would 
have silenced Terry Brennan, who, perhaps, saw 
more in him to admire than any one else. Terry 
was almost sure to know whenever he performed 
a charitable act. Try as he would, he could not 
conceal it, and Terry lost no opportunity for 
sounding his praises. 

It was the boy’s only way of expressing his 
gratitude, because “ Stoker Judd earned money 
every day, and had so much, there wasn’t any 
chance for a poor little fellow to pay back by 
doing things.” That Terry was glad to “pay 
back” for favors received, he proved to Varney 
Galvin beyond a doubt. 

The young man, who shared in his sister’s 
charitable work, told him he was to have a new 
suit of clothes, and invited him to go to a tail- 
or’s to be measured. 

“ A whole new suit, like other boys % ” he 
asked quickly. 

“Yes; a whole new suit like other boys,” 
was replied. 


68 


The Atiic Tenant. 


This was something so unexpected, that he 
was obliged to think of it for some time before 
he could fully comprehend it. Then he asked : 

“ How am 1 to pay for the clothes ? ’’ and 
when this question was satisfactorily answered, 
he asked another. 

What tailor are you going to ? ” 

“ Hoes it make any difference to you where 
we go ? ” was asked in reply. 

“ If you don’t mind, sir, I wish you’d go to 
a tailor that’s lame ; and I’m thinking he’s poor, 
for he’s in a little back place where there’s 
mostly poor folks all ’round him. It’s nice, 
though, inside, and he has a flower in the win- 
dow, the same as Stoker Judd. He bought 
some shavings of me last winter, and let me get 
warm by his fire. Sometimes I get a pail of 
water for him from the pump, because it looks 
as though it was hard for him to walk. I don’t 
know about him as I do about Stoker Judd, 
but I like him. I’m thinking he lives alone, in 
the back room of his shop.” 

“All right, Terry. We will call on your 
lame tailor, but what if he does not give you a 
good fit ? ” 

Terry did not understand the meaning of a 
“ good fit ” until it was explained to him, but 
he had no fears for the result. So they went 
to the little shop, where a middle-aged man 


Terry Brennan. 69 

came forward to meet them, recognizing the 
boy, who carried a bundle, and bowing respect- 
fully to the young gentleman. Their business 
was told, measures taken, and everything was 
to be ready for Mrs. Murkland the next morning. 

“ It is a dull time, and I have no other work 
on hand,” he said as they lingered a little; 
adding in reply to a question asked by Varney 
Galvin : “ This is a dull street, but rent is low 
and I can make tbe ends meet, which is more 
than I should be sure of in some places.” 

It is best to be on the sure side, and there 
are certainly some advantages here.” 

“Yes, sir; every place has some advantages, 
and it is best to count them instead of looking 
for the opposite.” 

“ Don’t you like him, Mr. Galvin ? ” asked 
Terry, when they were again in the street. 

“I do,” was replied. 

“ So do I, and he reads the Testament, for 
Tve seen him, ’though I didn’t know then what 
it was. But it’s the very same kind of a book 
as Miss Galvin gave me. He was reading it 
one cold day last winter, when he didn’t have 
but the least bit of coal. He didn’t have any 
money to pay me, but I cleared his sidewalk 
for him, and I wished I was rich, so I could 
buy some coal for him. 

“ I told Stoker Judd, and the next time I saw 


70 


The Attic Tenant, 


hiQi, lie said somebody sent him some coal, when 
he had put the very last lump into his stove. 
I knew well enough who did it, but I didn’t 
say so.” 

“Stoker Judd must be very kind.” 

“You would believe that, Mr. Galvin, if you 
only knew. He don’t mean to let anybody 
know; only when he invited us boys to a 
Christmas dinner, he couldn’t help it. I tell 
you that dinner was just — 1 don’t know what 
is the wordil ought to say, because I promised 
not to say such ones as I used to.” 

“ Was it the best dinner you ever had ? ” 

“ It was the best dinner any of us ever had. 
We had a big turkey, cooked splendid, with 
stuffing and gravy, and potatoes, and bread 
and butter, and pudding, and apples and 
oranges, and coffee with milk and sugar in it. 
Wasn’t that a good dinner? ” 

“ 1 should think it was.” 

“You would, if you had been hungry as 
many times as we six boys had. It must 
co^t a lot of money, but Stoker Judd said it 
paid him just to see us eat. He had a real 
kvarm fire, and we stayed a good while after 
ainner.” 

“ Had all the boys homes to go to ? ” 

“ They called the places homes, but some were 
awful poor. Mother and I had a hard time last 


71 


Terry Brennan, 

winter, but we’ve got two beds to sleep in, and 
there wasn’t another one of the six boys but 
what slept on the floor. • I don’t always mean 
to be so poor as I am now, Mr. Galvin. When 
I grow up, I mean to keep mother like a lady, 
and buy my own Christmas dinner.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


AN ANNIVEESARY. 

This is tlie anniversary of mother’s death, 
and I have been thinking of her all the morn- 
ing. I hardly slept last night, for thinking of 
her. It seems to me I never needed her more 
than I do now; and I often feel as though we 
should have been happier, if we had lived right 
on, earning what we could and making the 
most of it. I knew how to help people in our 
old home, but here I make mistakes.” 

“ You are looking on the dark side this morn- 
ing, Cousin Mercy,” replied Janet Burgen to 
the young girl’s appeal for sympathy. “If you 
do the best you can, your mistakes will never 
be counted as sins, and if I should tell you just 
what I think of you, it would be that you have 
shown remarkable judgment. I don’t wonder 
you think of your mother, and feel that you 
need her. Old as I am, and long as my mother 
has been dead, I miss her. I used to keep the 
anniversary of her death by shutting myself up 
alone, and mourning for her until I was unfitted 
for anything. I did that year after year.” 

(72^ 


An Anniversary, 73 

“ Mother charged us not to do that. She was 
sorry to leave us, but she did not fear to die, 
and she begged us not to waste our strength in 
mourning for her. She was sure of Heaven, 
and she used to talk to us about it sometimes, 
until we could almost rejoice that she was to be 
where there would be no more sorrow or pain.” 

“ She expected to see your father ? ” 

Oh, yes, but she did not think most of 
that. She had what I have heard a dear old 
lady call ‘an abiding sense of the Saviour’s 
presence,’ and she looked forward to seeing 
Him in His glory. It was that made her so 
brave and cheerful through all her troubles; 
and when she was gone it seemed almost wrong 
to mourn for her. But oh ! we missed her 
so, and to-day I miss her no less than I did then. 
It seems as though I cannot live without seeing 
her.” 

Here Mercy Galvin began to weep. The 
novelty of her position had lost something of 
its absorbing interest, while she had not yet 
become accustomed to the strangeness of her 
surroundings. Then came the great longing for 
her mother which could not be repressed, and 
which so tortured her. 

Her brothers had gone out early that morn- 
ing, and sorrowing as she did, it half seemed to 
her that she was forgotten. As she was weep- 


74 


The Attic Tenant, 


ing, however, Stark came in, and putting his 
arm about her, said tenderly : 

“ Mother would be sorry to see you.” 

“ Did you remember ? ” she asked quickly, 
looking up into his face. 

“ I never forget,” he replied. “ Mother wished 
us to mark each anniversary of her death by 
doing some especial act of kindness to some one 
needing assistance. We have always done this ; 
and now, more than ever before, we are under 
obligation to regard her wishes.” 

“ I know it. Stark. I have thought of it all, 
but I wanted to see her so much, I could not 
plan to help any one.” 

“ I know you miss mother, but we have our 
duty to do in the world”; and the brother 
soothed his sister as he had done when she was 
a child. “Now let us decide what we will do 
to-day,” he said after her sobs had ceased. “ I 
hear Varney coming, and we can consult him.” 

The younger brother came in and began at 
once to speak of Mr. Hiland, the lame tailor. 

“ I have just come from calling on him. 
When I have passed his shop this week, the 
door has been closed. This morning I thought 
I would go in, but I found the door locked, and 
no one answered my raps. I saw Terry Bren- 
nan and asked him about it, and he made a 
thorough examination of the premises withbut 


An Ann iversa ry, 7 5 

getting in ; but a woman living over the shop 
said she hadn’t seen Mr. Hiland for three days, 
and she was afraid he was sick. She thought, 
too, that perhaps he didn’t have all he needed 
to eat. 

“ That determined me to find out about him, 
and after trying several keys, we found one 
that fitted his lock. So Terry and I went in, 
and there in the back room was Mr. Hiland, 
lying on a straw bed on the floor. He was 
sick, or starving, and at first I could not tel] 
which ; but as his cupboard was bare, I was 
pretty sure he needed food more than medicine. 

He didn’t seem to have strength to speak, 
and I didn’t stop to ask any questions. I went 
to the nearest restaurant for tea and crackers. 
I knew they couldn r uu.u so I took theui 
first. When I got back to him, 1 was thinking- 
what excuse I could make for what I had done, 
but before I could speak he reached out his 
hand for the crackers. When he had eaten 
one I gave him a cup of tea with milk and 
sugar ; and you ought to have seen the poor 
fellow drink it.” 

“ I hope you gave him something more sub- 
stantial than crackers and tea.” 

“ I did. Cousin Janet. I went back to the 
restaurant for steak and rolls, and another pot 
of tea ; and I have no doubt Mr. Hiland and 


The Attic Tenant. 


76 

Terry are enjoying them together. I left Terry 
in charge until I could come home and tell you 
about it.” 

There is one opportunity for doing an es- 
pecial kindness,” said Stark. ‘‘Mr. Hiland 
needs help, and ^^e will consider him your 
charge, Varney. You can do for him whatever 
you think best.” 

“ Well, first, I want a suit of Uncle Dabney’s 
clothes. Terry told me that Mr. Hiland said it 
was a pity to cut up garments no more worn.” 

“ I begin to think so myself,” responded Mercy. 
“You can have a suit for Mr. Hiland, and if I 
knew how to dispose of the others, just as they 
are, I should be glad. I can help Mrs. Murk- 
land, without having them remade.” 

“The garmertc will be too large for Mr. Hi- 

“ 1 know it. Stark, but there is enough of them 
to be made smaller.” 

“ Y^s ; and Mr. Hiland knows how to do it. 
They would come very near fitting Mr. Judd, 
and I wish he would accept a suit, but I should 
not presume to offer him a gift of any kind ; 
much less a suit of partly worn clothing. He 
is a mystery.” 

“ Mysteries are all about us, and I am not 
sure but I am one of them. Anyway, I am be- 
ginning to think it is time for me to double-bar 


An Anniversary. 

some of tlie doors leading to my own personal 
quarters.” 

^‘Why, Varney, what do you mean?” ex- 
claimed his sister. “ I never heard you talk so 
before.” 

“Perhaps you never will again; but don’t be 
troubled. I am off to the tailor’s, and will report 
later.” 

“Is anything wrong about Varney?” asked 
Mercy, as soon as he had gone. 

“ Nothing which need give us any anxiety,” 
replied his brother. “ Of course he is not per- 
fect, but that is not to be expected.” 

“You are not troubled about him. Stark?” 

“Not at all. Situated as we are now, we shall 
be put to some tests we should have escaped in 
our old way of living, but I am sure we shall be 
true to our professions. Let us not talk of that 
now, but consider what we will do to make some- 
body happy to-day. There is Mrs. Murkland.” 

“Yes, and there are the children in the tene- 
ment-house.” 

“There is Florence Murkland still working 
in the match-shop, ’though Mrs. Bunker says it 
is harder, every night, for her to get up the 
stairs,” remarked Cousin Janet. “ If you were 
willing to have her in the kitchen, I would be 
glad to look after her and pay her as much as 
she earns now.” 


78 


The Attic Tenant 


Why, I should be glad to have her here, 
and pay her too,” answered Mercy. 

“ Then there is your work for to-day,” said 
Stark. “ You and Cousin Janet can manage it 
all as you please, and I will leave you to make 
your plans.” 

And you, Stark ? ” 

“ I cannot tell. I am not sure what I shall 
do, but I will try to do my part.” 

“ And what shall I do ? ” asked Janet Burgen. 
“You have taken Florence Murkland out of my 
hands.” 

“No, indeed. Cousin Janet. I wish you to 
make all the plans for her. She shall be your 
especial charge, while I care for the family in 
general. First, I wish I could take them out of 
that attic. It is hard for Mrs. Murkland to 
live there.” 

“Mrs. Bunker says there are two rooms on 
the first floor of the house to be vacated to-day.” 

“ Mrs. Murkland must have those rooms, and 
they must be furnished.” 

“That can be cheaply done. Cousin Mercy. 
There are chairs and tables in the attic, and a 
decent cook-stove in the chamber over the 
kitchen. There is a bed in that room, too, 
which can be spared better than not.” 

“ Then let us go right about it, so as to have 
it done to-day. Mrs. Bunker can tell me where 


An A nniversary, 79 

to find the landlord, and I will pay a quarter’s 
rent in advance. Then we will take Mrs. 
Bunker to help us, and leave the work here at 
home to care for itself.” 

We will do all we can in one day.” 

“That will be a great deal, Cousin Janet, if 
we only set about it in real earnest. Perhaps, 
too, we shall find more things lying useless in 
the house than we expect. Mother said it was 
wrong not to have everything made of use in 
some way.” 

Accustomed to prompt action, Mercy Galvin 
poon engaged the rooms and hired a poor 
woman to put them in as good condition as 
possible with soap and water. After this, the 
furniture was moved in, making them quite 
habitable. In fact, the rooms were positively 
luxurious, as compared with the bare attic in 
which Mrs. Murkland found shelter. 

Janet Burgen and Mercy Galvin were finish- 
ing their work by arranging an abundant and 
well-cooked supper upon the table, when Flor- 
ence Murkland came in from the street, and 
dropping wearily upon the lowest stair, mur- 
mured : 

“ Oh, dear, how can I ever get to the top ! ” 

“ You need not get to the top,” said Miss 
Galvin kindly. “Your mother is coming to 
live in these rooms. See,” she added, throwing 


8o 


The Attic Tenant, 


the door wide open. There is your supper 
all ready, and I was just going to call your 
mother.” 

“ But these things don’t belong to mother,” 
responded the child, looking around in a strange, 
dazed way. We used to have some most like 
them, but father sold them. We used to have 
a rocking-chair and some beds, but that was 
ever so long ago. I must go to mother. I am 
so tired, and the matches make me so sick, it 
seems as though I couldn’t work there another 
day.” 

You are not to work there another day. 
You are to work for me, and I want to talk to 
you about it, while this young lady calls on 
your mother. Miss Galvin has hired these 
rooms, so we have a right here. Sit down in 
this rocking-chair and rest.” 

“ I am too dirty to sit in such a nice chair. 
Mother always has me tako off my match-clothes 
and have a good wash the first thing.” 

“ You can have the wash when your mother 
comes, but now we will forget all about matches 
and match-clothes.” 

The poor child thought that would be impos- 
sible \ yet as she listened to what was proposed 
for her, she forgot everything else. 

“ Can I really help you ? ” she asked at last. 

‘‘ Certainly you can,” was replied. 


An Anniversary. 8i 

Then I shall be so glad to come. I wouldn’t 
mind working ever so hard, if I could only 
breathe where it isn’t all matches. I want to 
dig in the dirt and have things grow. We’ve 
got some flowers in a window, but I want a 
whole piece of clean dirt. Can I have it if I 
live with you ? ” 

“ You can have the whole back yard that is 
full of clean dirt.” 

“ Then I will do everything just as you tell 
me, and I know mother will let me go. But 
she can’t,” cried the child a moment later. 
“ She must have the money I earn in the match- 
shop. Oh ! don't you think it’s dreadful to 
have a father that gets drunk, and swears, and 
whips his children, and smashes up the crock- 
ery, and don’t bring anything home to eat ? ” 

I do think it is dreadful, Florence.” 

“ I know it is. That’s the way my father, 
does, and pretty soon he’ll get out and come 
back. Oh, dear ! I wish he was dead and 
buried.” 

That is a bad wish, child.” 

“ You’d wish so too if he was your father 
and you had to live with him. He used to 
send me for beer and whiskey, but I never’ll 
go again ; not if he kills me.” , 

The child was terribly excited as she talked 
of her father, whom she declared she hated 


82 


The Attic Tenant, 


the worst of anybody,” and whom she feared 
as the very incarnation of all cruelty. 

Meanwhile, Mercy Galvin was with Mrs. 
Murkland, explaining, persuading, and insist- 
ing. 

“ I cannot pay the rent of those rooms, and I 
cannot be such a beggar as to have it paid for 
me. I believe I would rather die,” said the 
poor woman. 

“And leave your children ? ” asked her friend. 

“ It would be hard, but some one else might 
do better for them than I can.” 

“ Then they would be dependent upon char- 
ity, Mrs. Murkland, and no one else can ever be 
to a child what a good mother is.” 

“ I do the best I can, Miss Galvin, but I am 
so worn out, I sometimes think I must stop. 
It don’t seem as though I could go on much 
longer.” 

“ Then why may 1 not help you ? Why not 
allow me that privilege ? ” 

As the poor woman made no response to 
these questions, Mercy Galvin told her why, on 
this particular day, she wished to give some one 
substantial aid. She talked of her mother until 
the heart of her companion was moved with 
sympathy, and at last her kindness was ac- 
cepted with the warmest expressions of grat- 
itude. 


CHAPTER IX. 


FOUND AND BAYED. 

“ Mr. Judd, I have just found an old ac- 
quaintance of mine lying insensible in the alley 
back of the shop, and I wish to take him to 
some place where I can care for him,” said Stark 
Galvin, adding in the same breath : “ I prefer, 
too, to take him where he will not be seen. Is 
there not some corner here in the basement 
where we could make him comfortable until 
we can do better for him ? ” 

If your friend is sick this is no place for 
him,” was replied a little coldly. 

But he is not sick. At least, I think he is 
not. He has evidently been drinking too 
freely.” 

“ Then he is drunk, Mr. Galvin. I believe in 
calling things by their right names, and any 
place is good enough for a drunken man. There 
are some shavings in the corner room where 
nobody is likely to go except myself. He can 
be put in there, and there is a back door open- 
ing into the alley ; so you can take him in 
without being seen.” 


(83) 


84 


The Attic Tenant 


“ Thank you ; that will make everything all 
right.” 

“ Your pardon, Mr. Galvin, but nothing was 
ever right with a drunken man.” 

I agree with you there. I was only think- 
ing of concealing my friend until he recovers 
from his present prostration. I must ask you 
to help me bring him in. He is as helpless as 
if he were dead, and I cannot rouse him at all.” 

Drugged, perhaps. Would he be likely to 
have money % ” 

“ Yes, sir ; he would not leave home without 
being well provided with money.” 

“ That tells the story. Wait a moment and 
I will help you.” 

Going into the corner room, he covered the 
shavings with some sacking ; then opening a 
back door went into the alley, where lay a well- 
dressed young man, whose flushed face and 
heavy breathing betrayed his condition. Pres- 
ently, the helpless man was resting on the rude 
bed, all unconscious of his surroundings. 

“ Drugged ! No doubt of that ; and if he 
had any money, it is probably gone. There is 
no telling what a liquor- seller will do. Not all 
of them will put their hands in a man’s pocket 
and steal his money. I understand something 
about such cases as this, Mr. Galvin, and I 
think we can bring him ’round without calling 


Found and Saved. 85 

any one else. He needs the strongest coffee 
which can be made. If you will bring me half 
a pound of the very best, 1 can manage it. I 
have a coffee-pot here.” 

The coffee was brought and prepared as soon 
as possible, and then it must be administered. 
This was a difficult task, but Stoker Judd was 
equal to its accomplishment. 

“ You can leave him now to himself for a 
while, Mr. Galvin. I will look in upon him 
occasionally, and if he needs anything more I 
will attend to it. It is fortunate that you found 
him when you did. He had evidently been 
brought to the alley and left there, to live or 
die ; and little cared they who drugged him, 
and doubtless robbed him, which it should be. 

“ Saloon-keepers are a set of cut-throats, any- 
way. You may think that strong language, 
but if you had seen as much of their work as I 
have, you would be ready to say the same 
thing. There is a saloon not far from here, 
wifch a man at the head of it, who is capable of 
anything that will bring him a dollar.” 

“ He ought to be prosecuted.” 

Yes, and punished, but there is some one 
back of him who has money and influence. 
The backer, too, moves in good society, and 
gives large sums in charity, where it is sure to 
be publicly noticed. That saloon has a gam- 


86 


The Attic Tenant, 


bling-room connected with it, and finds employ- 
ment for broken-down gamesters who are hired 
to decoy young men into its trap. I judge that 
neither you nor your brother need to be warned 
against such gentlemanly villains; but many, 
situated as you are, would fall an easy prey to 
their schemes.” 

“ I believe we are in no danger, Mr. Judd, 
but I thank you all the same for speaking as 
you have. Until recently, we have offered no 
temptation to gamblers ; and as for saloons and 
saloon-keepers, we were taught to avoid them 
as the embodiment of all evil.” 

“ You had the right teaching, Mr. Galvin, 
and if you are wise, you will heed it to the very 
latest day of your lives.” 

“ God helping us, we shall. I will leave you 
now, Mr. Judd, but I will return in a few hours, 
and if possible relieve you of further care of 
my friend. He must be moved from here as 
soon as it can be done with safety. First, how- 
ever, I must thank you for your kindness. I 
did not wish to subject my friend or myself to 
unkind criticism, and I knew I could trust you.” 

The speaker was gone, and the man whose 
confidence he so much wished to gain looked 
after him, half questioningly and half admir- 
iDgly. 

This, then, was Stark Galvin’s especial work 


Fomid and Saved, 87 

for the day: to save one whom he had known 
from childhood, and whom he had counted as a 
friend. — Hector Mowatt, the son of wealthy 
parents, who had given him every necessary ad- 
vantage ; lavishing upon him the most devoted 
affection, and never doubting that he would be 
to them all they could desire. 

As he grew older, his path diverged widely 
from that of his boyhood’s friend, yet they con- 
tinued to meet cordially, with no reminder on 
his part of his superior privileges. Of all this 
Stark Galvin thought that morning, as he went 
from place to place, transacting business with 
various people and considering various interests 
to which his attention was called. 

At noon he went again to the basement of 
the shop, where he was sorry to learn that the 
improvement in Hector Mowatt’s condition was 
not what had been expected. 

“ The drug was heavy, and you may prefer 
to call a physician,” said Mr. Judd. 

“ Is it necessary ? ” asked his companion. 

“ I feel confident that I can bring him safely 
through, if you are willing to trust me.” 

“ I will trust you, but he must be moved 
from here before night. He must be made 
more comfortable.” 

“ Where will you take him ? ” 

“ To my home. There is no other place for 


88 


The Attic Tenant. 


him, and T wish it might be managed in such a 
way as not to excite suspicion of anything 
wrong.” 

I think it can be done. If he should be 
able to walk, it will be all right ; if not, I will 
get him out of here and take him to your house 
in a hack. Beyond that, you can trust me not 
to betray either your friend or yourself.” 

It was not until late in the afternoon that 
Varney Galvin was told of his brother’s strange 
experience, when he exclaimed : 

“ Hector Mowatt drunk and drugged ! Lying 
on the ground in a back alley, and now on a 
heap of shavings in the basement of the shop ! 
It seems incredible, but I am glad you trusted 
him with Stoker Judd. He must be brought 
here, and we must do all we can for him.” 

“ What excuse shall we make to Cousin Janet 
and Mercy for his being here ? ” 

“ Not any. You always say it is best to tell 
the truth, and this is just the time to do it.” 

I was thinking of Hector. I would spare 
him all unnecessary mortification.” 

“ That is very good in you. Stark, but it is 
my opinion that Hector Mowatt needed a sharp 
lesson. I have known for more than a year 
that he was going wrong. He had some asso- 
ciates who prided themselves upon their knowl- 
edge of good wines ; and besides, his father is 


Found and Saved. 


89 


not very strong on the temperance question. I 
think Mr. Mo watt, himself, sometimes takes a 
glass of wine.” 

‘‘ He is not a man who would ever drink to 
excess, but Hector is very diiferent from him.” 

“ Yes, and another thing, Mr. Mowatt was 
obliged to depend upon himself when he was 
young. He earned his money before he spent 
it, and that gives a man a good start in life.” 

I am glad if you believe that. I think I can 
remember when you considered it a little hard.” 

“ I am very sure I can remember it, but my 
eyes have been opened since then. What a 
mercy it is that you found Hector, instead of 
his being found by a policeman, who would 
have reported him to the public ! Tell Cousin 
Janet and Mercy all about it, and they will 
help us keep the secret. They have not come 
in yet from Mrs. Murkland’s.” 

' “ How will Mercy feel about it \ ” 

“ The same as she would about any other 
young man of her acquaintance in his condition. 
There is nothing to fear there. Stark. Mercy 
was fond of Hector when they were children, 
but he does not come up to her present stand- 
ard, either in principle or practice. We will 
do all we can for him, and hope he will be 
ready to do for himself. ISTow I will tell you 
something of my experience.” 


90 


The Attic Tenant. 


Oh, yes ; I want to hear about Mr. Hiland.” 

“ He is better and happier than when I found 
him this morning ; and you would hardly know 
the room, it is so changed. I tell you. Stark, it 
did me good to see him, an hour ago, sitting in 
a comfortable chair, and hear him talk about 
what he could do, now the courage has come 
back to him. I don’t understand how anybody 
can be so utterly discouraged. The darkest days 
we ever saw, we never felt as he said he had.” 

‘‘No; we encouraged each other. We shared 
our troubles. No one of us was alone, as Mr. 
Hiland is ; and then, we knew we had a Friend 
who was mighty to help us. There is every- 
thing in being a Christian ; a trusting Christian.” 

“ I know it. Stark. Mr. Hiland said to-day, 
that his mother was a Christian, and he wished 
he was a Christian too. If Hector Mo watt was 
a Christian, there would be no trouble about 
his drinking.” 

“ Some professed Christians drink wine.” 

“ I know they do ; but to my mind they are 
very inconsistent; not what I should hope 
Hector Mowatt would be.” 

Later, when Janet Burgen and Mercy Galvin 
came in and heard of the expected guest, Mercy 
was so shocked, that she asked again and again 
if it could be true. Then, recovering from her 
surprise, she said : 


Found and Saved, 


91 


Hector must be taken care of. He was good 
to me when I was a wee bit of a girl. I shall 
never forget that.” 

Janet Burgen said nothing, but went at once 
to prepare a room for the young man, who came 
a few hours after, accompanied by Mr. Judd, 
who said: 

‘‘ He cannot talk much yet, but I think he 
will sleep to-night, and to-morrow be able to 
give some account of himself. I have done 
what I could for him, and no one else is the 
wiser.” 

“ I thank you a thousand times, Mr. Judd, 
and if I can ever do you a favor, command me 
to the full extent of my ability,” replied Stark 
Galvin. 

‘‘ You will do me a favor, by telling me some- 
thing of your friend’s experience, since he came 
to this city.” 

“You shall know all I am at liberty to 
repeat.” 

“ I wish to know nothing more. Good-even- 
ing.” 

When Hector Mowatt opened his eyes the 
next morning. Stark Galvin was sitting by a 
window in his room, reading. 

“ I have been waiting for you to wake, so that 
I could bring your breakfast,” was said cordially, 
after the usual greetings had been exchanged. 


92 


The Attic Tenant, 


“ Breakfast ! Breakfast ! I am not accus- 
tomed to taking my breakfast in bed. Where 
am I? How came I here? What day is it?” 

When this last question was answered, the 
questioner said : 

“I have lost a day. The last I remember, a 
gentlei^p I met on the train, invited me to — ” 
Here he paused ; adding presently : “ There is 
something wrong about me. What is it? 
Whose house is this?” 

I^One-third of it belongs to me,” replied his 
clH^anion. 

“ How did I get here ? I intended to call on 
you, but I don’t remember of coming here. My 
head is so heavy, I can hardly raise it from the 
pillow. Tell me. Stark, what is the matter with 
me ? ’’ 


“ One thing is your need of breakfast. Let me 
bring you some, and then you will feel better.” 

“ What does all this mean ? I am going to 
know about it, and you are the one to tell me.” 

By this time Hector Mowatt was so excited, 
that his friend thought best to tell him how 
and where he had been found. 

“ I remember of drinking a glass of wine, and 
of thinking, after I had swallowed it, that it 
was stronger than I was used to. I have some 
other confused recollections. Is there any money 
in my pocket-book ? ” 


Found and Saved, 93 

There was not even a pocket-book to be found. 
It had contained two hundred dollars. 

“ The wine you drank must have been 
drugged,” said Stark Galvin. 

Yes, but such a thing will not happen again ; 
for I solemnly promise that I will never taste 
another drop of any kind of intoxicatuig liquor 
as long as I live,” replied Hector Mowmi. 


i 


CHAPTER X. 


SAM EYDEK. 

In a private room connected with a cheap 
but respectable restaurant, a man past middle 
a^ sat leaning his elbows upon a table before 
him, and supporting his head with his hands. 
He was alone, but evidently expecting some 
one to join him. At length the door was opened 
and closed, admitting a coarsely-dressed man, 
who also seated himself at the table, at the 
same time looking sharply at the face opposite 
him. Not a word was spoken, until the new- 
comer said in a low tone : 

“ You are going too fast. Did you leave 
your victim of tw(^ nights ago where you ex- 
pected me to find him and save you from the 
guilt of murder ^ 

“There you are again, Judd. I knew you 
had some trumpery alpusation to bring against 
me. Once in about so often you either imagine 
or manufacture a story in which I play the part 
of an unprincipled wretch. I never expect any- 
thing else, when you call for an interview ; but 

< 94 ) 


Sam Ryder. 95 

this time you are too absurd altogether. What ! 
do you mean ? ” , 

“ I will tell you what I mean, Sam Ryder ; 
and the speaker’s voice sank to a whisper. “I ^ 
mean that you enticed a young man into your ^ 
master’s saloon, drugged him and robbed him, 
and then left him in the alley back of our shop, 
where he would have died if he had not been 
found and cared for. Mr. Galvin saw himt*Mi^ 
there and recognized him as a friend. It was 
some of your work, and it is of no use to de# ' 
it. You leave your mark, so that I can track 
you.” 

“ You are a veritable sleuth-hound, Judd, 
but this time you are on the wrong scent. I 
don’t know what you mean by your lingo this 
evening ; and as for my master, I have none. 

I am a free man, except for your cursed inter- 
ference.’‘ 4 ^ ^ . 

Have a care, Ryder. There is a limit to 
my forbearance. I have l^t forgotten when 
you begged me to interfere on your behalf. I 
have not forgotten the pron^es you then made ; 
only one of which you ha’s^kept.” 

I was a fool to ask yojffor help. Anything 
would have been better^han your spying and 
threatening. I might have known I should re- 
ceive no mercy from you.” 

It is not too late now to retract. I am 



96 


The Attic Tenant. 


willing to throw up ray part of the agreement, 
whenever you are ready to accept the conse- 
quences.” 

“ There will be some consequences coming to 
you. People would open their eyes in aston- 
ishment if they were told all I could tell. Then 
there is Allan.” 

Touch him at your peril. Go near him, 
and I will shut you within prison walls.” 

I can claim my rights of him, and I will.” 

You will do no such thing ; and besides, 
you have no rights. He attained his majority 
to-day, so that he is quite beyond your control.” 

A curse upon my memory. I meant to 
claim him before it was too late, but I can still 
appeal to him. Brought up as he has been, I 
suppose he must have a heart and a conscience.” 

“ He has both, and I warn you now that you 
shall not darken his life. But this is a waste 
of time. I am here to demand of you two hun- 
dred dollars, taken from Hector Mo watt when 
he was unconscious, because of a drug admin- 
istered to him in a glass of wine. Tliat is a 
favorite game of yours, Ryder, but you will 
play it once too many times.” 

“ Two hundred dollars ! You might as well 
ask me for the moon. I was thinking yester- 
day that I should be driven to apply to you for 
a small loan to tide me over a close time.” 


97 


Sam Ryder, 

Don’t talk to me of loans. The question 
now between us is : Will you return the two 
hundred dollars, stolen from Hector Mowatt ? 
I will give you twenty-four hours in which to 
decide. Meet me here to-morrow evening, at 
this time, and pay me the money, or I will de- 
nounce you to Mr. Mowatt, who will show you 
no mercy.” 

Was that young simpleton Oscar Mo watt’s 
son ? ” 

“ That young simpleton ! You have betrayed 
yourself, although I am no more sure of you 
than I was at the outset. Will you bring me 
the money ? ” 

“It is a case of blackmailing, Judd; but I 
suppose I must bring the money if I can get it.” 

“ You can get it. Your master owes you 
more than that.” 

“ Master ! I have no master.” 

“ What do you call the man you are serving 
day and night, to whom you have sold yourself, 
soul and body, if he is not your master ? If you 
had half the soul of a man, you would cut adrift 
from him and do honest work for a living.” 

“ Turn stoker, as you have, and live in a gar- 
ret, cooking my own food, and patching my 
clothes, till I shouldn’t know what they were 
made of to begin with.” 

“Better do that than live on the price of 


98 The Attic Tenant, 

your soul and the souls of those you send to 
perdition.” 

“ Souls, Judd ! I thought you had forsworn 
all such superstition. We are too wise to be- 
lieve in souls ! ” 

Too wise, Ryder ! T have been weak, and 
wicked, and foolish ; but so sure as there is a 
First Great Cause, He has given to every human 
being an immortal soul.” 

“ How did you find that out ? It was no part 
of your early training.” 

“ You are mistaken in that. I can remember 
my mother, who taught me to pray, each night, 
the Lord my soul to keep.” 

A muttered curse escaped the lips of the 
elder man; — as his face was distinctly seen, he 
who answered to the name of Ryder, looked 
many years the senior of his companion. 

“ You are a fool to talk like that. I know 
where it comes from. That young Galvin is 
blue pious; goes to church, and prays like a 
parson, but he is no better than the rest 
of us.” 

“ Don’t compare him with, yourself, or with 
me. He is a Christian gentleman who counts 
honor and honesty above everything else.” 

He is no better than the old man, who never 
troubled himself about anything beyond this 
world. He has his price, and young men com- 


99 


Sam Ryder, 

ing into a fortune as lie lias, are generally in a 
liurry to spend it. Somebody will find a way 
to relieve him of a part of it.” 

‘‘ Do you mean that he will be drugged and 
robbed as young Mo watt was ? ” 

“ No matter what I mean. He is nothing* to 

o 

you. There is no reason why you should trouble 
yourself about him.” 

“ Touch a hair of his head, to injure him, and 
you will find what he is to me. But enough of 
this. You have twenty-four hours in which you 
can think your own thoughts. At the end of 
that time, you must give me two hundred dol- 
lars for Hector Mowatt, or take the conse- 
quences of a refusal.” 

I tell you ” 

There was no one to tell, for Stoker Judd had 
left the speaker alone. For the next half hour 
he did not move from his seat. Then, snatch- 
ing his hat and pulling it down in such a way 
as to nearly conceal the upper part of his face, 
he went out of the room. Directly after, he 
entered a saloon on the next square, and pass- 
ing by the bar, gave a secret sign to a man who 
followed him up a winding stairway; pausing 
for a moment on the landing, while he unlocked 
and opened a door admitting them to a small 
apartment, the walls of which were hung with 
various garments, hats, and wigs. 


lOO 


The At lie Te7iant. 


“What is it now, Eydcr? You look as if 
you had seen a ghost,” said this man. 

“ I have,” was replied. “ The ghost was sub- 
stantial, and demanded two hundred dollars, to 
be paid to-morrow evening. I must have it, too.” 

“ If you must have it, I hope you will be so 
fortunate as to get it. Make it and you will get 
it. If you know of anybody who has that amount 
more than he needs, ask him for it in a proper 
way, and he will probably think best to let you 
have it. Is that all you w^lsh to say to me ? ” 

“I must have the money. The last game 
came near being serious.” 

“ There isn’t anybody dead, is there ? ” 

“Not that I know of” 

“ Then what is the trouble ? You^ have been 
frightened at your own shadow, and Twill leave 
you to a night’s sleep. You will^e Clearer in 
the morning. If not, put on your blua^lasses 
and go on a collecting tour.” 

“ Not so fast. We are in the same boat. Grant, 
and if it capsizes, we shall go to the bottom to- 
gether. If I go, you will go with me. The last 
move was one too many.” 

“Then it is your fault. You managed badly, 
and you, if anybody, must take care of the con- 
sequences.” 

“The trouble was not in the management, 
but in the discovery afterwards made. There 


lOI 


Sam Ryder, 

is some one behind the scenes who knows too 
much, and is not afraid to speak out.” 

“ Silence him.” 

‘‘Silence the ocean’s roar. There is money 
behind him too.” 

“ Then there is the place to look for your two 
hundred.” 

I need not transcribe more of this conversation, 
which finally became a mere exchange of oaths 
and curses, accusations and recriminations.. 
Each was intent upon carrying his point : Ry- 
der determined to obtain the money, and Grant 
equally determined not to advance it. At last, 
however. Grant was obliged to yield to the de- 
mand of his companion. 

The next evening, Ryder went to meet his ap- 
pointmeii^i^h Mr. Judd, who was dressed as on 
the previouT^ening, and whose appearance was 
even more stern and forbidding. Without a word 
he counted the money placed in his hands, after 
which he produced a paper to be signed, saying : 

“ I have a duplicate of that, ready in case you 
should destroy it, and you cannot leave this 
room until you have signed one or the other.” 

“ Give it to me. Let me see what I am ex- 
pected to sign and the paper was given to 
him. ‘‘Heavens, man, you don’t expect me to 
give myself away like that, do you ? ” 

“ I expect you to sign that paper ! ” 


102 


The Attic Tenant, 


“You want to disgrace me forever. What if 
I refuse to sign ? ’’ 

“ I shall take care to make you regret it to the 
latest day of your life.” 

“ But you are unreasonable, Judd. By sign- 
ing that, I put a halter ’round my neck, that 
you can tighten at your pleasure.” 

“Yes, Byder, and unless you keep to your 
agreement, I shall tighten it. Come, I am wait- 
ing for you, and I have no time to waste. Here 
is a pen containing ink enough to write your 
name, and the sooner yon do it, the sooner you 
will be rid of me.” 

“ I wish I was rid of you, once and for all, 
Judd.” 

“I have known that for a long time, Ryder 
You thought you had accomplished it once, but 
you see that I turned up again. And, Ryder, 
I shall continue to turn up. I am only a stoker, 
but I would not drink a drop of liquor, any 
sooner than I would cut off my right hand. For 
ten years, I have worked hard and lived plainly, 
but I have done what I set myself to do. Now 
sign that paper.” 

The man thus ordered dared not disobey. 
His face blanched, his hand trembled, and his 
whole frame quivered, but he wrote his name 
as best he could, and returned the paper to 
Stoker Judd. 


CHAPTER XI. 


TWO HUNDEED DOLLARS. 

There was no particular reason why Stark 
Galvin should visit the basement of the shop, 
and yet he was there, with his cheerful good- 
morning, as he had been for three mornings 
before. 

“ I was wishing to see you,’^ said Mr. Judd. 

I can return to you the amount stolen from 
your friend ; and I brought it with me, hoping 
for an opportunity to give it to you.’^ 

At the same time, he took from the inner 
pocket of his blouse an envelope containing a 
roll of bills which he asked to have counted to 
make sure it was all right. 

But where ? How ? ’’ was asked quickly. 

Don^t ask me any questions, Mr. Galvin. I 
hope you have confidence enough in me to be- 
lieve that I came by this money honestly.” 

I believe in your honesty, Mr. Judd, but 
why should you give me two hundred dollars?” 

“ Is not that the amount of which your friend 
was robbed ? ” 

(103) 


104 Attic Tenant, 

“It isT 

“ I thouglit I could compel the robber to re- 
turn it, and I have done so. I cannot tell you 
more than that. Please give it to your friend 
without compromising me in any way. Ask him 
never to recognize the man who offered him 
wine, and, Mr. Galvin, if you feel at liberty to 
do so, demand of him a pledge that he will 
never taste of wine again under any circum- 
stances. It has ruined thousands and it will ruin 
thousands more. Many a man thinks himself 
safe because he drinks nothing stronger than 
wine; but wine is no better than whiskey. 
Perhaps you have never drank a glass of wine.” 

“ I never so much as tasted wine, except at 
the communion-table.” 

“ It was a sin and a shame for you to do it 
there, Mr. Galvin”; and as he said this in an 
excited tone, the speaker’s face flushed hotly. 
“ You may think that accusation uncivil and un- 
just, but I have good reason for making it. 

“I had a friend who was to me as a brother. 
We drank wine together many a time, and we 
pledged ourselves to total abstinence together. 
I had the stronger will, and I watched over him, 
to shield him as far as I could from temptation. 
It was a terrible fight for him, but he con- 
quered. 

“ At last he went beyond me. He professed 


Two Hundred Dollars. 105 

to become a Christian, and — I don’t understand 
it, Mr. Galvin, but it seemed to me that lie was 
transformed. Sometimes, when he was talking 
to me and urging me to try the same experience 
which had come to him, his face was fairly 
transfigured. I can close my eyes now, and see 
him just as he looked then. I had no sympathy 
with what he called his religion, but I could 
not find it in my heart to tell him that I 
thought it all superstition. He needed every 
safeguard which could be thrown around him, 
and he said his religion had taken away all 
desire for liquor of any kind. 

“ He was urged to join the church, which he 
did, and, as you would say, he went to the com- 
munion-table. As you would say again, the 
wine had been blessed, but for him it was 
cursed ; doubly cursed. It was the devil’s own 
drink, and aroused the old appetite he had 
thought dead. 

“ It would have been a thousand times better, 
had he gone to a saloon, that Sabbath, and 
drank of liquor there. He would not have dis- 
graced himself so publicly, while his ruin would 
have been no more complete. 

Church members said he disgraced the 
church, and few had sympathy for him. The 
old deacon who passed the wine said if he had 
been a true Christian, he would have had 


io6 The Attic Tenant, 

strength to taste wine, without desiring more, 
but he knew nothing about it. You profess to 
be a Christian, Mr. Galvin ? ” 

I do.’^ 

Do you think it would be right for you to 
put a glass of wine to your neighbor’s lips ? ” 

‘‘ I think it would be a terrible sin for any 
one to do it.” 

“ Is it any less a sin, because it is done in 
what you would call the house of God, on the 
Sabbath, which such as you claim should be 
kept holy unto the Lord % Is the deed any bet- 
ter, because it is a part of what you call a relig- 
ious ordinance ? ” 

For a moment Stark Galvin was silent. He 
was overwhelmed by the thoughts these ques- 
tions had suggested. The thoughts were new 
to him. Brought up as he had been, to regard 
all ordinances of the church as too sacred for 
criticism, he shrank from anything which 
might seem like condemnation even of their 
methods. At length, how^ever, he said decidedly : 

“Mr. Judd, I believe it is wrong, anywhere 
and everywhere, to tempt a person to taste of 
any intoxicating drink, unless it is necessary as 
a medicine.” 

“ Better go without such medicine, and if 
need be, die for the want of it. I have known 
more than one man sent back to his old ways of 


Two Hundred Dollars, 107 

drinking by taking stimulants prescribed by a 
physician. But if it is wrong to offer wine to 
your neighbor, why do people who profess to be 
better than others do it ? ” 

I cannot answer that. It is something I have 
never thought of as you have presented it. But 
tell me, what became of your friend who was 
thus tempted \ ” 

“ He died a drunkard, and he was the most 
desperate drunkard I ever knew, although when 
he was sober for a short time, he deplored his 
condition so bitterly, one would think he could 
not persist in ruining himself, as he knew he 
was doing. When he died, the old deacon, from 
whose hand he took the wine, made him the 
subject of a long dissertation at the next prayer- 
meeting. I don’t know how you look at it, but 
to my mind the deacon was the greater sinner 
of the two.” 

Under the circumstances, it may be hard for 
you to have charity for him, yet I cannot be- 
lieve that any deacon would perform the duties 
of his office, feeling that he was doing wrong.” 

“ He ought to know whether he is doing 
wrong. But I have gone far from where we 
started, and said more, perhaps, than was 
];roper.” 

I am glad for all you have said. Any 
practice sanctioned by the church should be 


io8 The Attic Tenant, 

above suspicion of wrong. But the best of us 
are liable to err in judgment, and Christians are 
only human.” 

‘‘ I suppose we all ought to be more charita- 
ble for each other’s failings ; ’though it seems 
to me the sin of sins to put intoxicating drink 
to your neighbor’s lips ; call it by what name 
you will.” 

Stark Galvin stood looking at the man who 
had spoken thus plainly and strongly, as he 
went about his work, wondering more and more 
in regard to him. It was evident that he wished 
nothing further said concerning the money 
which was carefully counted. 

‘‘ Two hundred dollars, and T will give it t(/ 
my friend, as you have given it to me.” 

An hour later. Hector Mowatt was gazing at 
the envelope with its contents and asking : 

How did it come to you ? ” 

“ That I cannot tell you, only that the man 
who robbed you was induced to give up his 
booty.” 

“ What was the inducement ? ” 

“ I do not know. I only know that it was 
placed in my hands for you. Of course, I know 
the party who gave it to me, but I am not at 
liberty to divulge his name.” 

“At least, he deserves a reward. Tell him 
for me that he has done me a kindness I shall 


Two Hundred Dollars. 109 

never forget. I wish I could show my gratitude 
in some substantial manner.” 

You can do it by granting him two re- 
quests.” 

“They are granted before they are made, if 
they are within the limits of my capacity.” 

“ One is that you never appear to recognize 
the man who invited you to drink wine with 
him, or make any complaint against him. The 
chances are that you will never see him again ; 
or if you do, that he will be wearing a different 
disguise ; but all the same, the request is made.” 

“ It is granted. I have no wish to advertise 
my folly. What is the other request % ” 

“ That you never taste another drop of wine.” 

“ I never will. Do you think, Stark, that 
after all I have suffered, I could ever touch the 
cursed stuff again ? The very thought of it is 
repulsive to me. Stark Galvin, I have been a 
fool of the first water. I have not seen much 
of you for the last year or two, because I feared 
you. I knew you would see through me, and 
I did not want you to know how 1 was living. 

“ I will make a clean breast of it now, and 
tell you just how it has been. About a dozen 
young fellows, in town and near it, have met 
once in two or three weeks and had what they 
called a high time. When you hear such fel- 
lows talk about a high time, you may be sure 


I lO 


The Attic Tenant. 


they treat themselves to something stronger 
than tea or coffee.” 

I should expect that as a matter of course. 
Varney told me something about it. He said 
he was invited to join the club, if that is what 
you call it.” 

‘‘Yes; that is what we call it, because it 
sounds dignified and impressive. Varney was 
invited to join us, but we could move the ever- 
lasting hills as easily as we could persuade him 
to do anything so foolish. No one would think 
of inviting you, and we discovered that Varney 
was made of the same material ; warranted to 
withstand temptation and be the stronger for 
it. I shall have nothing more to do with that 
club, unless I can manage to get the members 
interested in something that will benefit us all. 
I am almost afraid to try that, when I have 
such a record behind me, but ” 

Here Hector Mowatt began to weep. He 
had controlled himself until he could do this 
no longer, and it was several minutes before he 
was able to speak. Then he said huskily : 

“ You will think me quite a child. Stark ; 
and as a cry does a child good, I expect I shall 
feel better for crying. The days I have spent 
in your house have been the darkest days of 
my life. When I left home I was happy and 
hopeful.” 


Two Hundred Dollars. 1 1 1 

You will go back stronger and better than 
when you came. It is good for us to learn how 
weak we are, that we may be on our guard 
against surprises.” 

you had not found me, I might never 
have gone home again. I can never repay you 
for all your kindness.” 

“ Don’t talk of that. Hector. Consider your- 
self our welcome guest, and join us at dinner. 
Let us forget everything connected with your 
visit that is unpleasant.” 

“ I wish I could forget it, but 1 believe it wdll 
haunt me to the latest day of my life. I could 
not sit at the table wdth you. I could not look 
Mercy in the face. I don’t know that I shall 
ever feel worthy to speak to her again, but you 
are most fortunate in having her as a sister. 

was intending to ask a loan of you, to 
meet the expense of my journey home, but now 
it will not be necessary. The sooner I go, the 
better. I don’t know how I shall account to my 
father and mother for returning so soon, but I 
think I will take the noon train. 1 am quite 
equal to the effort.” 

As all remonstrances were vain, Stark Galvin 
gave his friend such assistance as he could, and 
with hearty wishes for a future meeting under 
happier auspices, they parted. 


CHAPTER XII. 


BANISHED. 

“Me. Judd, I have come to ask another 
favor/’ said Stark Galvin one pleasant summer 
morning ; and without waiting for a reply, he 
added: “I have learned where to find efficient 
help, and I thought I might come to you for 
advice.” 

“ I may not be able to give the advice you 
desire,” was responded. 

“ I hope you will be. I wish you to tell me 
how to reform a drunkard.” 

“That is more than I can do, Mr. Galvin. 
Some can be influenced in one way and some in 
another, and some are past being reformed by 
any means. As a matter of fact, very few 
drunkards are ever thoroughly reformed.” 

“I have believed otherwise, Mr. Judd, but 
that may be because of my want of experience.” 

“ It may be that I am too much inclined to 
look on the dark side; although most of the 
drunkards I have known have been drunkards 
to the end. But you wished me to tell you how 
to reform a drunkard. If it is not improper for 

(II2) 


Banished. 


1^3 

me to do so, I would like to ask if you wished 
to act on my advice in any particular case/’ 

“ I did, and do, Mr. Judd. My sister is inter- 
ested in a family, who are expecting the husband 
to come soon from the house of correction, where 
he has served a six months’ sentence for drunk- 
enness and cruelty, and I am anxious to know 
what influences can be brought to bear upon 
him to reform him.” 

“ Please, what is the man’s name ? ” 
Murkland.” 

“ That wretch ! If you take my advice, you 
will not waste a thought on him. He is not 
worth it, and if he was, no power on earth can 
influence him to give up drinking liquor, so long 
as he can get it. Of course, he cannot get it in 
the house of correction ; and there, or prison, is 
the place for him, unless by some good fortune 
he should chance to die. There is nothing 
human about him, except his body; and the 
last time I saw him, that was so bloated and 
brutalized, it seemed scarcely to belong to a 
human being. He is not worth a thought, Mr. 
Galvin.” 

“ But unless prevented, he will come back to 
his family.” 

‘‘ His wife can prevent it. She can sue for a 
divorce ; and if half the. truth is told, there is 
no court in Christendom but would grant her a 


1 1 4 The A ttic Tenant. 

bill She owes it to her children to do this. I 
have seen them many a time when they must 
have been suffering from hunger. They never 
begged, but they picked up everything that 
could possibly be converted into food ; crust?, 
bones, and parings of vegetables from garbage 
heaps. Think of it, Mr. Galvin, and then tell 
me if you believe any woman ought to live with 
a man who leaves his children to such abject 
poverty.’’ 

“ ISTo, Mr. Judd, I do not.” 

“ Then if your sister has any influence over 
Mrs. Murkland, let her insist that the poor 
woman have nothing more to do with her wretch 
of a husband.” 

“ What will become of him ? ” 

‘^No matter what becomes of him. He will 
be drunk as soon as he can get the liquor.” 

But how can he get it ? ” 

Trust a drunkard to do that. If Murk- 
land’s wife has any money, and she allows him 
to come near her, he will frighten it out of her ; 
if she has none, he will sell anything belonging 
to her that he can lay his hands on. He has 
done it more than once, and would not hesitate 
to do it again.” 

How is it to be prevented ? ” 

“ Plis wife can enter a complaint against him 
for having threatened her life. She is a hard- 


Banished. 




working woman, who deserves a better fate 
than has fallen to her lot as a drunkard’s wife. 
You have never seen Murkland.” 

“ I have not.” 

“ He has been drifting about in this part of 
the city for the last five years, moving from one 
place to another, until everybody knew him. I 
was glad when he was shut up, and I hoped he 
would die before his sentence expired. I hope 
so now.” 

It would hardly be true to say that Mrs. 
Murkland wished her husband dead ; yet she 
looked forward with fear, amounting almost to 
terror. Her comfortable home was threatened 
with invasion by one who showed no mercy, 
and she knew not how to protect herself against 
him. 

Florence was no longer in the match factory, 
yet every Saturday evening she received the 
same amount she had received for a week’s 
work amid surroundings which could only be 
endured, because of the necessity that she should 
do her utmost to provide for the family. 

“ O mother, I never thought I could be so 
happy,” she exclaimed, when she had been for 
a week with Miss Burgen. “ It is just beauti- 
ful all the time, and Miss Galvin speaks to me 
so pleasant, just as though she was glad to have 
me there. And then to think that besides all 


ii6 The Attic Tenant. 

the rest, I can bring you money, the same as I 
used to. O mother, ain’t it good, and ain’t you 
glad ? ” 

“ Yes, cliild, and I hope you will be good 
too.” 

‘‘ I will, mother. I do everything just as Miss 
Burgen tells me. 1 have such a splendid bed, 
and so much to eat, I wish you could have part 
of it.” 

“ We’ve got a bed, and lots of things to eat, 
and I hope there won’t ever any ugly man come 
here,” chimed in one of the younger children. 

“ I hope so too ; and, mother, it won’t do any 
good, will it, to have things, if father comes ? ” 
said Florence. 

“I don’t know, child ; I don’t know. I wish 
I knew what to do.” 

“ Can’t you go away somewhere, where he 
can’t find you, where I should know, so I could 
bring you the money every week ? ” 

He would find me anywhere, child. I don’t 
know what to do. I wish I did. We could 
live comfortably without him.” 

“ There are only two weeks more, mother. I 

wonder But don’t let us think any more 

about it. I am coming to-morrow, after Sunday- 
school, to have my dinner with you. Miss Bur- 
gen said I might, and I can stay all the after- 
noon too. I shall bring some nice picture 


Banished. 


117 


papers, and some verses ; so it will seem almost 
like Sunday at Mr. Galvin’s. You’ve got 
enough for dinner, haven’t you, mother ? ” 

“ Certainly I have. I just bought two quarts 
of milk for to-morrow.” 

“And do you thank God every night, mother, 
for so many good things ? I do, since Miss 
Burgen told me, and I want you to.” 

“ I try to, Florence.” 

“ Tiy, mother ! Why, it is just as easy as can 
be, and I am going to ask God to make father 
better, or else keep him from coming here.” 

Mrs. Murkland was not inclined to say more 
upon this subject, but sat busily working, while 
Florence entertained the children until time for 
her to return to her new home. 

A few days after this, Mr. Judd said to Stark 
Galvin : 

“ I have been thinking about Murkland, and 
I think now that I have a lien on him that will 
fetch him to terms. If some one will take my 
place here, when he is expected I will meet him 
at the depot and tell him what he must do to 
avoid being brought to trial on a more serious 
charge than has yet been made against him. 
My plans are all laid, and if I can carry them 
out, he will give his family no more trouble at 
present. But, Mr. Galvin, it will take money 
to do it,” 


ii8 The Attic Tenant, 

“ I will furnish the money, and take your 
place here while you are dealing with him. It 
will not be the first time I have acted as stoker.” 

“All right. That will be your part of the 
w^ork. It will not be best for you to appear in 
the matter. He or some of his cronies might 
revenge themselves upon you by injuring your 
property ; but as I have nothing to lose in that 
way, I have nothing to fear.' First, his wife 
must agree to what I propose, or it will be of 
no use for me to try to help her.” 

“ I think she will agree to anything which 
promises her relief from his presence.” 

“ Will you ascertain that beyond a doubt, 
Mr. Galvin ? Women are soft-hearted about 
such things. They will believe a man’s prom- 
ises, no matter how many times he has made 
and broken the same. It is strange how a 
woman will cling to a man through everything ; 
but Mrs. Murkland must have some regard for 
her children in this matter.” 

“ I feel sure that she will. At any rate I 
will ascertain and report to you as soon as may 
be.” 

“ And I will govern myself accordingly, Mr. 
Galvin.” 

Janet Burgen was consulted, and volunteered 
to broach the subject to Mrs. Murkland, who 
said ; 


Banished. 


119 

“ I am past caring wliat becomes of my bus- 
band. He has dragged me down, until I could 
go no lo\ver, and now I only wish never to see 
him, or hear his name again. He is the father 
of my children, but he has been only a curse to 
them, and I am often frightened when I think 
they may have inherited a drunkard’s appetite. 

“ I have done all I could to make them hate :• 
every kind of liquor, but their father says they 
shall all drink, when they are older. When he 
was carried off the last time, he said if he lived 
to come back, he would pour a pint of whiskey 
down Jamie’s throat. He calls Jamie a milk- 
sop, because he always stands up for me, and 
ain’t afraid to say what he thinks about drink- 
ing liquor.” 

“ You don’t think his father would really 
pour whiskey down his throat, do you \ ” 

I don’t know. He is terrible when he is 
crazy with liquor. There don’t anybody know 
how bad such men are, except the women who 
live with them. If anybody will keep my hus- 
band away from me, so I never shall see him 
again as long as I live, I shall be willing to go 
down on my knees to thank them. Now we 
are so. comfortable, and you are doing so much 
for Florence, it don’t seem as though I could 
live a single day to have things back as they 
usiid to be.” 


I 20 


The Attic Tenant. 


They shall not be, Mrs. Murkland. There 
will be a way to protect you.” 

At the right time Mr. Judd was at the depot, 
scanning the faces of the men who left the in- 
coming train. Last of all came one whom he 
accosted sharply: 

Murkland, you will go with me.” 

“ Go wuth you ! ” was repeated with an oath. 
“ I am going where I please.” 

“ Not unless you please to go with me. You 
will go quietly, too, or I shall call an officer. 
You don^t care to be sent back where you came 
from.” 

“ No, I don’t,” growled the man, with an oath 
more terrible than the one first uttered, and 
which showed unmistakably wffiat his family 
might expect from him. 

“ Then come with me and make no more 
words about it.” 

As submission was imperative, Murkland ac- 
companied his selfappointed guardian to a re- 
tired spot, where they could talk, without dan- 
ger of being overheard. There he was told 
what he must do : leave the city at once and 
give up all claim to his family, until he should 
prove himself worthy of their confidence and 
able to provide for their wants. 

“ What if I don’t agree to all this ? ” he asked 
sullenly. 


Ba7iished, 


I2I 


“You will take the consequences. I know 
enough to send you to prison, and I shall tell 
what I know unless you agree to my terms. I 
should be glad to know you were behind the 
bars for life. 

“ I will give you a square meal, and pay your 
fare for a hundred miles’ ride, and then you 
must shirk for yourself. If I give you money, 
you will spend it for liquor ; and you are able 
to earn your own living without depending up- 
on charity.” 

This was not what he had expected, but with- 
in two hours from leaving the train, the bafled 
man was on his way to a large town, of which 
he knew only the name. 

“ Murkland has gone, and after what I told 
him, he will not be back in a hurry,” remarked 
Mr. Judd, as he came into the basement, where 
Stark Galvin had been doing duty as stoker 
during his absence. “I sent him off on the 
lightning express, and I hope he will be obliged 
to work, or starve.” 


CHAPTEE XIIL 


WELCOME GUESTS. 

In the brick house there were guests; de- 
scribed by Florence Murkland to her mother as 
“just the nicest man you ever saw, and the 
bsautiflest lady, who talks just like singing.” 

“ They’ve got gray hair, but they can’t be old. 
Anyway, they don’t look old, like the old folks 
that live ’round here. Miss Burgen says the 
man is a minister, and the lady is his wife. She 
must be real happy, for he says ‘ dear ’ to her, 
and does everything she wants him to. They 
both speak nice to me, and the lady asked me 
about my brothers and sisters. 

“ It’s beautifler at Mr. Galvin’s, than it was 
before they came. It’s real comfortable here, 
though, mother.” 

“ Yes, we are very comfortable,” replied Mrs. 
Murkland. “ James brings home a little money 
every day, so we can have more than we could 
if it wasn’t for that.” 

“ And best of all, father won’t ever come back 
to trouble you any more. Isn’t that best of all ? ” 

“ Yes, child, and I wish all the other bad men 
( 122 ) 


Welcome Guests. 


123 


were sent off where they wouldn’t ever come 
back. I pity the poor women ’round here, who 
are almost as poor as I was, and have nobody to 
help them.” 

“ Perhaps there will be somebody, mother. 
We didn’t know we were going to be helped 
till Miss Galvin came right to us. Miss Burgen 
says we must always hope for the best, and she 
says, too, there are lots of good people doing all 
they can to make things better for everybody.” 

wish they would shut up the saloons. 
Jamie says there’s a new one opened ’round the 
corner, that’s worse than all the rest.” 

Mr. Galvin says that sometime there won’t 
be any saloons where men will sell the wicked 
stuff. I heard him tell Mr. Sinclair so, and it’s 
likely he knows.” ^ 

Mr. Sinclair was an old friend of the Galvin 
family ; one who had known Mr. Galvin, and 
felt a deep interest in his children. He had 
been their pastor at the time when they most 
needed his strong, uplifting influence. He had 
watched them in their struggle with poverty ; 
respecting them the more, for the independence 
which made them unwilling to receive pecuni- 
ary favors. 

It was through his influence that Stark Gal- 
vin obtained a position where he received a 
thorough training in practical mecjianics ; at 


124 


The Attic Tenant, 


the same time earning enough to meet most of 
the expenses of their small household. All this 
had been remembered gratefully; and when 
Mr. Sinclair’s health failed, so that rest was im- 
perati\re, Mercy proposed that he be invited to 
make them a long visit. 

“ Send him money to pay his travelling ex- 
penses too,” she added. “ Then you can talk 
with him about the chapel. He will know just 
how it ought to be built, and perhaps we can 
have him for the minister.” 

“ I have thought about that,” replied Stark 

He is just the one to influence the people we 
wish to have influenced. He did more for us 
than any one else, except father and mother.” 

“ Mr. Sinclair never looked down upon us 
because we were poor,” said Varney. ‘‘ I used 
to wish, after father died, that he was my father ; 
he was so good to his boys. It seemed strange 
they should all be taken from him, but he said 
the Lord knew best.” 

“ He not only said it, but he acted as though 
he believed it ; and his cheerful submission to 
what must have been a terrible sorrow helped 
me more than all his comforting words. AVe 
will ask him to come, with his wife, and stay as 
long as they 'will. I shall be glad to have some 
of the empty rooms filled. 

“We ought to be making somebody besides 


Welcome Guests, 


125 


ourselves bappy. It is not enough for us to 
give away suits of clothing for which we have 
no use, or send a basket of food to some poor 
family. I used to think what I would do if I 
only had plenty of money.” 

“ So did I, Stark, and Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair 
are the very ones to tell us what and how to do. 
Write and invite them to come this week.” 

The invitation was forwarded and gladly ac- 
cepted, and at the time Florence Murkland 
made her report, the guests felt quite at home 
with their young friends. When consulted in 
regard to building a chapel, Mr. Sinclair asked : 

“ How much are you willing to expend on 
it?” 

Enough to make it what it should be,” re- 
plied Stark Galvin. “ Tl^e expense is to be 
paid from the common stock. We have made 
no division of the property left us, and shall 
not be likely to do so at present. In fact, we 
hardly know the real value of it yet. I am 
known outside as the business manager, while 
Varney does most of the writing, and keeps ac- 
count of all receipts and disbursements. 

We have a small fund from the sale of some 
Western property which was appropriated at 
the time of the sale toward building a chapel. 

There is no church, or Sunday-school, in 
this part of the city, and I judge, from appear- 


126 


The Attic Tenant, 


ances, that there are very few church-goers. 
There are many very poor people, with the 
usual complement of liquor-saloons, to be found 
in such a locality.” 

“All that means work for such as you, Mr. 
Galvin. You can do a great deal to change 
the character of such a locality as you have de- 
scribed. 

“ I have often pictured to myself the ideal 
people’s church, or chapel, where seats should 
be free, and everybody welcomed to all relig- 
ious and social privileges. I should not care to 
have the building an imposing edifice ; but I 
should care to have it spacious, with enough of 
elegance to make it attractive. Besides a room 
for Sunday-school and evening meetings, I 
should want a library, and a reading-room, in 
addition to a room for social entertainments, 
where all could meet on common ground.” 

“We can have just that, Mr. Sinclair; and 
when the building is completed, you will be 
the very man to preach the Gospel to those who 
can be gathered in.” 

It was all clear to the good clergyman, who 
was able to make an approximate estimate of 
the cost of such an enterprise ; which, with 
some hesitation, he reported to his host. 

“ It is no more than we expected,” said Mr. 
Galvin, “We had calculated on even more 


Welcome Guests. 


127 


than that, and we have agreed to make the 
building what it should be ; not quite regard- 
less of expense, but within any reasonable 
amount.” 

Plans were at once drawn and submitted to 
an architect, who, after making some slight 
alterations, heartily endorsed it. Ground was 
broken for the foundation in a large lot adjoin- 
ing the square which Mr. Dabney had prom- 
ised to reserve as a playground for the children. 

“A Quixotic scheme,” remarked one gentle- 
man to another after passing the site of the 
proposed building. “ If Galvin was twent}^ 
years older, he wouldn’t invest money where it 
promises no return. Old Stark Dabney never 
dreamed that he was making money to build a 
church. His nephew is not much like him.” 

“ His nephew has as sharp an eye for busi- 
ness as he ever had.” 

This does not look like it.” 

It may not look so to us, but some men who 
counted on his ignorance of business have 
found him a match for them. He does not 
know the value of everything, but he knows 
how to find it out, and he is careful not to com- 
mit himself, until sure of his ground. 

The grand difference between him and his 
uncle is in their religious opinions, and their 
convictions of duty. From the first of his com- 


128 


The Attic Tenant, 


ing here, Stark Galvin has taken care to have it 
distinctly understood that he is a Christian with 
whom religion is the first consideration. If I do 
not endorse his opinions, I cannot but admire 
his consistency.” 

Have you seen much of him ? ” 

“ No, 1 have not. I have formed my 
opinion of him from what I have heard. Of 
course, a young man of his personal appear- 
ance and fortune will be of interest to a cer- 
tain class who find it necessary to cultivate 
the acquaintance of men with money. The 
Galvins received some attention in that line, 
but it was soon found that they were not to be 
victimized.” 

“ Is the younger brother as pronounced in his 
opinions as the elder ? ” 

“ I judge that he is, although in many respects 
he is quite unlike his brother. He has less the 
appearance of a business man ; is more impuls- 
ive, and more ready to express himself decid- 
edly on matters of minor importance.” 

“ And the sister, what of her ? ” 

“ She is like unto them as a strict religionist, 
but I am told that she is very much liked by 
young ladies who have made her acquaintance, 
although of course she has not society manners.” 

“ An acquaintance with her must be refresh- 
ing. So many have refined their manners ac- 


Welcome Guests, 


129 

cording to society rules, until it is hard to know 
whether they have any real feeling.” 

“ There is a great deal of that, and yefc, under 
it all, I believe that hearts are warm as ever. 
Then in the long run all things are equalized, 
whether we will or no. Mr. Dabney ignored 
church-going, and had no regard for religion \ 
now the property he accumulated is to be used 
by Christians for what they consider the benefit 
of the world. For one, I am interested to see 
how young Galvin succeeds in his enterprise.” 

Everybody living in the vicinity was inter- 
ested ; most of all, the children who talked of 
the Sunday-school which was to be ; wishing it 
would begin right off quick.” 

Those living in the Dabney cottages who 
had learned to watch for Miss Galvin’s frequent 
visits, asked her so many questions in regard to 
it, that she invited them to come to her house 
the next Sunday afternoon. 

“ May we all come ? ” asked one. 

“Yes, you can all come,” she replied ; and at 
the time appointed, a crowd of bright-eyed girls 
and boys were standing in front of the house, 
afraid to enter, until Mr. Galvin opened the door 
and welcomed them cordially. 

Then they had a real Sunday-school ; the ex- 
ercises consisting of prayer, singing, a Bible 
story” told in simple language, and a few 


130 The Attic Tefiant. 

words wbicli might be called a practical exhor- 
tation. 

The children w^ere delighted ; and when told 
they could come again, with as many more as 
they could persuade to join them, they were 
ready to promise to fill the house. 

‘‘ I shall invite some myself, and we will see 
who can bring in the largest number,” said Miss 
Galvin. 

“Isn’t there a large room, somewhere near 
here, that you could hire to hold meetings in, 
until the chapel is built ? ” asked Miss Burgen 
after the children had left. “ It is a long time 
to wait. No matter how plain the room is, if 
you only have comfortable seats, and some mot- 
toes on the walls.” 

“I believe you are right,” answered Stark 
Galvin. “ It is a long time to wait. With such 
a room as you propose, we might have a relig- 
ious service in addition to the Sunday-school. 
I hope to have Mr. Sinclair to preach in the 
chapel and take the entire management of 
everything connected with it. I am not com- 
petent for that, but I think I might manage 
to hold the attention of some plain people for 
an hour. We can sing, and most people enjoy 
singing. 

■“ If we hire such a room, I think every one 
of our workmen should be invited to attend the 


Welco7ne Gtcests. 


13 ^ 

meeting. There might be some who could help 
carry it on.” 

“ Is there a Christian among them 1 ” asked 
Mercy. 

I don’t know ; but there are some sensible 
temperance men, who could talk well on that 
subject, and such talk is needed. Keligion has 
many handmaids, and it is lawful to do good 
on the Sabbath-day.” 


CHAPTEE XIV. 


fathek’s shop. 

Please, sir, is tiis the shop that used to be 
my father’s ? ’’ 

Mr. Sawyer looked down at the boy who thus 
addressed him ; noting the shabby, illy-fitting 
clothing, bare feet, and torn hat. 

What was your father’s name ? ” he asked. 

Mr. Butman, and my name is Eobert But- 
man.” 

Then this is the shop that used to be your 
father’s, and I am glad to see your father’s boy.” 

“ Is there a man here who used to work for 
father ? ” 

“T worked for him.” 

“ Then you are the one my sister sent me to. 
She told me to tell you ” 

Here the little fellow’s lips quivered with his 
efforts to repress the sobs which at length burst 
forth, followed by convulsive weeping. 

“ Come in with me and we will have a good 
talk together,” said Mr. Sawyer kindly, and 
leading the boy by the hand, they went together 
(132) 


133 


Father s Shop. 

into the office, where he drew his visitor to his 
lap, as tenderly as he would have taken one of 
his own children. “ Now what was it your sis- 
ter told you to tell me % ” he asked, when the 
sobs had ceased. 

‘‘ She told me to tell you mother is sick, and 
— and — we are hungry. Mother didn’t know I 
w^as coming. Margie didn’t tell her, because it 
would make her feel bad, but we hain’t got any 
money, nor anything to eat. We didn’t have 
much last winter, and ’twas awful cold, most all 
the time, only when we w^ent to bed.” 

Where do you live ? ” 

“ It ain’t but little ways off, else I couldn’t 
come. Margie remembered about the shop, and 
she showed me the way till I got most here. 
We hain’t lived where we do now but a little 
while, and I wish we wouldn’t live there any 
more. It ain’t half as nice as where we used to 
be. We couldn’t stay there, because mother 
didn’t have money enough to pay the rent. I 
wish father was alive, to take care of mother. 
We don’t mind for us, but mother feels so bad ; 
and now she is sick, she cries, and says she don’t 
know what will become of us." 

I think you will be taken care of, Kobert. 
I will go home with you and see what I can do 
for your mother. You shall not go hungry any 
more, if I can prevent it.” 


134 


The A ttic Tenant. 


“ Thank yon. Thank you. Margie said she 
’most knew there ’d be somebody here that 
wo aid help us. When I grow up, I’ll do ever 
so much work, to pay you. I wish I was grown 
up now. Then perhaps you’d let me come and 
work in the shop ; wouldn’t you ? ” 

“ To be sure I would, and pay you every Sat- 
urday night for your work.” 

So the boy was comforted, and forgetting his 
shyness, told much more than his mother would 
ever have acknowledged : how they had lived 
without fire most of the winter, with only 
enough of the cheapest, coarsest food, to keep 
them from actual starvation. The only allevi- 
ation of their poverty seemed to be the fact 
that they had a big bed, with plenty of blank- 
ets to keep warm with. 

“We hain’t got so many blankets now,” said 
Eobert. “ Mother left some of them, and lots 
of other things too. I guess there wasn’t room 
in the wagon for all of them.” 

Mr. Sawyer had often thought of Mrs. But- 
man, whom he knew to be poorly qualified to 
care for herself and her children. Before reach- 
ing the home of this family, he had learned 
enough to feel assured that they must have im- 
mediate assistance ; yet he was not prepared 
for the destitution which he found. 

As he afterward said, the one room was 


135 


Father s Shop, 

nearly as bare as a prisoner’s cell. Mrs. But- 
man, pale and emaciated, was resting upon a 
bed from which she was unable to rise. As 
Mr. Sawyer introduced himself, she attempted 
to piake some apologies for the poverty of her 
surroundings, which were received in such man- 
ner as to put her quite at ease. 

“I have often thought of you, and I was very 
glad when I saw Bobert at the shop door,” said 
the gentleman. Of course, he had quite out- 
grown my recollection of him, but we soon be- 
came acquainted.” 

“ I did not know he had gone out. I must 
have been sleeping. I suppose Margie gave 
him permission. He gets tired of sta}dng in, 
and I don’t wonder he does, but I try to keep 
him oiifc of the street as much as I can.” 

I sent Bob to the shop,” now said Margie 
frankly, having come into the room while her 
mother was talking. “ I sent him to find some- 
body who used to work for father. We are all 
hungry, and we haven’t any money, and I 
thought somebody would be willing to help 
us.” 

“ O Margie ! Margie ! how can you talk so ! ” 
cried the half-starved woman. “ How could 
you send Bobert out to beg \ ” 

“ I didn’t mean to, mother, but this morning, 
when I went to the pump for some water, I 


136 The Attic Tenant. 

heard a woman say that all the medicine you 
needed was enough to eat. She said, too, there 
wouldn’t anybody in the house offer you any- 
thing, you are so proud; and you wouldn’t live 
much longer, unless something was done /or 
you. 

Rob and I can get along almost any way, 
we are so used to being hungry, but we couldn’t 
have you die, mother. We should be all alone 
then. I didn’t mean to do wrong.” 

Mr. Sawyer stayed to hear no more ; but 
hurrying out, soon returned with supplies for 
the immediate wants of the family ; not forget- 
ting a bundle of w’ood for a fire. 

“ Now, mother, you shall have some tea and 
toast,” exclaimed Margie, while Robert was so 
delighted, he clung to Mr. Sawyer, and vainly 
attempted to express his thanks. 

Mrs. Butman could only murmur, God 
bless you,” while tears filled her eyes. It was 
left for Margie to express the gratitude of the 
family, which she did most eloquently. 

couldn’t help sending Rob,” she said. 

“ I wish you had sent him before,” was Mr. 
Sawyer’s reply. Your father’s friends will be 
glad to do what we can for you and judging 
rightly that they would prefer to be alone, he 
left them to the enjoyment of his bounty. 

Then he went back to the shop and prepared 


137 


Father s Shop. 

a paper to be circulated among the workmen 
for the benefit of Mrs. Butman. This he 
signed ; pledging himself to give five dollars 
to the proposed subscription. He then pre- 
sented it to each man in the shop, all contrib- 
uting willingly and generously to relieve the 
distress of which they were told in the fewest 
possible words. 

Going to the basement, the foreman found 
Mr. Galvin engaged in conversation with Mr. 
Judd. Making knov/n his errand, the latter 
asked some questions, and then signed the pa- 
per ; saying as he did so : 

“ I will give you the money to-morrow.” 

Mr. Galvin gave a ten-dollar bill on the spot, 
and Mr. Sawyer left them. 

“ It is a hard case for Mrs. Butman,” remarked 
Mr. Judd. “ She was no more fitted to take 
care of herself than one of her children. But- 
man was a good mechanic and a good-hearted 
fellow, but he knew nothing about business. 
He thought a thousand dollars would multiply 
itself to a fortune, without regard to the inter- 
est paid on thousands more. Another thing : 
he thought it was all right to take a glass of 
liquor occasionally. He did this at the start, 
and after a while he didn’t stop to count the 
number of glasses he drank. 

“ He neglected the shop, and, in return, the 


138 The Attic Tenant. 

shop neglected him. After Mr. Sawyer came 
in, foreman, things went better ; but it was too 
late to make up for such long mismanagement.” 

My uncle had a mortgage on the shop, 
which he foreclosed. Did the mortgage cover 
the full value of the property ? ” 

“It was understood that Mr. Dabney paid 
Butman a few hundred dollars. It would be 
hard to tell just the value of the property, 
everything was in such a run-down condition. 
I presume Mr. Dabney was as liberal as any 
man would be under the same circumstances.” 

“I hope he was; but what of Mr. Butman 
after that \ ” 

“ He went from bad to worse, until he drank 
himself to death. I don’t know that he was 
ever seen intoxicated, but there is no doubt that 
the use of liquor undermined his constitution 
and brought on consumption, of which he died. 
Mr. Sawyer can tell you more about him than I 
know, but the main facts are as I have stated 
them.” 

Stark Galvin was interested, and improved 
an early opportunity to inquire of Mr. Sawyer 
in regard to the family. 

“For the present they are very comfortable,” 
was replied. “ I hired three rooms for them in 
a decent house and paid three months’ rent in 
advance. After considerable trouble I redeemed 


139 


Father s Shop. 

the furniture taken by their former landlord 
and carried it to them ; so that now they feel 
quite at home. I bought a supply of wood for 
the season, and stocked their pantry.” 

“ Then they need not suffer from hunger for 
some time to come.” 

‘‘ They certainly have enough for the present ; 
and besides giving Mrs. Butman a few dollars, 
I have something left to be appropriated in 
future as seems best. But whatever comes, they 
have been tided over one hard place. 

I never pitied a woman more than I did Mrs. 
Butman, the day I found her actually starving, 
and yet unwilling to acknowledge it. When 
she was first married, she hardly knew what it 
was to have a wish ungratified. She was pretty, 
and Butman was proud of her, but neither of 
them knew how to live within their means. 

“ They both dressed handsomely, and his bills 
for liquor and cigars were more than he could 
afford to pay. There was always money being 
spent for something. Through the warm weather 
they were off on frequent excursions. I presume 
Mrs. Butman never thought of the expense.” 

‘^Mr. Butman must have thought of it. He 
must have known whether he could afford it.” 

“He did not stop to consider. Like many 
other men, as long as he had money in his 
pocket, he spent it. I never thought he in- 


140 


The A ttic Tena7it. 


tended to be dishonest, and I know he never 
dreamed of being a drunkard ; but he lacked 
foresight.” 

“ And principle, too, Mr. Sawyer. Principle 
holds a man to what is right, when foresight 
and policy would fail him. A man with right 
principles does not spend for pleasure, the 
money needed to pay his honest debts.” 

Judged by that standard, Mr. Galvin, many 
who profess to be Christians are utterly devoid 
of principle.” 

‘‘By their fruits ye shall know them. No 
one has a right to deny that.” 

“Then what do you make of such profes- 
sions % ” 

“ I make nothing. There is one standard by 
which we shall all be judged. We have a per- 
fect example to which we shall do well to take 
heed. But to return to Mrs. Butman. Let me 
know if I can do more for her ; and if this prop- 
erty came into my uncle’s possession for less 
than its real value, I shall consider it my duty 
to make full restitution. What is your opinion 
in regard to it ? ” 

“ If the property had been forced upon the 
market and sold at auction, it probably would 
not have brought any more than it cost Mr. 
Dabney.” 

“ W as it really worth more ? ” 


Father s Shop. 1 4 1 

“ It would have been worth more to me, if I 
had been able to pay for it.” 

“ How much more \ ” 

“ I should have been willing to pay a thou- 
sand dollars more than it was supposed to cost 
Mr. Dabney. He was always very close about 
his business, but it was understood that at the 
final settlement he gave Mr. Butman five hun- 
dred dollars.” 

“ That would leave five hundred now due 
Mrs. Butman, with interest upon the same. 
That amount, well invested, would give her in- 
come enough to buy bread for her family.” 

“ If Galvin pays that sum to Mrs. Butman, 
when she hasn’t the least claim on him for any- 
thing, I shall believe in his religion,” solilo- 
quized Mr. Sawyer, when the young man had 
left him. “ It will take a principle stronger 
than common honesty to make a man do that. 
One such act ought to outweigh a dozen selfish, 
dishonest transactions, and with me it shall.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


A NEIGHBORHOOD SCHOOL. 

It was not a mission school. It had been de- 
cided at the outset that it should not be thus 
designated. Invitations were given to a 
neighborhood school for the study of the 
Bible.” 

Each session was to be preceded by a short 
praise service, followed by a talk upon some 
practical subject. Between this and the Sun- 
day-school there was to be an intermission, so 
that any one present could leave, who felt so 
disposed. 

It was not expected that many of the chil- 
dren would come until the hour appointed for 
them, but they were waiting outside when Miss 
Burgen with Miss Galvin and her brothers ap- 
peared, greeting them cordially. One of the 
girls whispered to Miss Galvin : 

Mother and some of the other women are 
coming. They were most afraid, but we said it 
was for them, too, and they are coming.” 

The room was large^ clean, and cool ; a pleas- 
(14a) 


A Neighborhood School, 143 

ant contrast to the dirt and heat without ; and 
a grateful retreat from the noise and bustle per- 
vading the street. It was opposite the new sa- 
loon James Murhland had described as sure to 
be the very worst of all. While the room was 
in process of cleansing and fitting for its present 
use, it had excited much curiosity, and been the 
subject of some threatening remarks from those 
who had no sympathy with “preaching.” But 
for all that, the number responding to the invi- 
tations was much larger than had been expected. 

The children were seated, and a short prayer 
offered. Then some familiar hymns were sung, 
while many gathered at open doors and win- 
dows to listen, thus hearing some words of 
truth they could not easily forget. During the 
singing, some who had waited in the hall en- 
tered the room, and presently new voices helped 
to swell the chorus of sacred song. 

At the close of the singing Mr. Galvin read 
a parable uttered by our Saviour ; explaining it 
in simple language, and applying its teachings 
to the every-day lives of every-day people. He 
then prayed that a blessing might rest upon all, 
those who should go directly to their homes, 
and those who remained for the study of the 
Bible. 

To his surprise, no one seemed disposed to 
go, so that it was necessary to divide the school 


144 


The Attic, Tenant, 


into classes. The closest attention was given ; 
several of the women proving that they were 
not wholly ignorant of Scripture truth. 

I can’t tell you how much good it’s done 
me,” said an old lady whose dress betokened 
extreme poverty. “ I hain’t heard a Bible talk 
before for three years. My folks don’t any of 
them care about such things, and it’s too far to 
any meeting-house for me to go alone. Besides, 
I can’t dress as other folks do, and I don’t want 
to be looked at as though I didn’t belong among 
them. It hurts me, if I am old. When I heard 
about this meeting I made up my mind to come^ 
and may the Lord bless them that started it.” 

“ I am glad you enjoyed it,” replied Miss 
Burgen, who had hastened to speak to this 
woman, while her cousins were engaged with 
others. 

“ I can’t ever tell you what it has been to me. 
My clothes are all old, but I made them look as 
well as I could, and the minute I heard the 
singing, 1 forgot all about them. I used to 
sing when I was young, and when it came to 
‘ Old Hundred,’ I couldn’t help striking in. 
You know the young man said he wanted 
everybody to help. But I won’t say any more, 
for fear you’ll get tired of an old woman’s 
talk.” 

‘‘ There is no reason to fear that. We will 


A Neighborhood School, 145 

sit down and wait until Miss Galvin is at lib- 
erty. She is very fond of old ladies, and she 
will wish to speak with you.” 

The poor woman was easily persuaded. She 
was so happy that she half forgot her poverty, 
and soon Mercy Galvin’s hearty, cordial manner 
made her forget it entirely. 

“ I am glad to see you,” said the young girl, 
as pleasantly as she would have said it to a 
valued friend. “ We hoped some elderly peo- 
ple, with more experience than we have, would 
come in to help us. You can tell us how to do 
the most good.” 

“ I’m afraid I can’t help you a mite, dear, but 
you’ve helped me, and I’m going home to thank 
the Lord for what I’ve heard to-day, and pray 
for a blessing on them that started this meeting. 
It’s in the right place. There’s something need- 
ed to offset the saloon across the street. That 
wdll make misery in a good many poor homes, 
and there’s nothing but religion can cure it. I 
know what strong drink can do. But the Lord 
reigns, and in His own good time He’ll make 
all things right. I don’t mean to complain, but 
it’s long waiting ; long waiting.” 

The old lady — for lady she was, despite her 
old-fashioned dress and bonnet — quite won the 
heart of Mercy Galvin, who asked the privilege 
of calling on her. 


146 


Tlie Attic Tenant. 


“ It’s a poor place, but I should be glad to 
see you,” she replied ; at the same time giving 
directions where she might be found. 

No one present seemed to know her, so that 
she went away alone, walking slowly, but she 
had made friends who w^ould not forget her. 

“ Next Sunday we must have a paper for 
every man, woman, and child, who is in Sunday- 
school,” said Varney Galvin that evening. “ The 
papers must be wide awake, too, full of stories 
or parables that wide-awake boys and girls will 
wmnt to read. You can’t get children, or such 
grown people either as came to the meeting to- 
day, to read sermons, but they will read stories 
and learn something from what they read. The 
question is : what shall they learn ? An even- 
ing spent in a liquor-saloon is bad enough ; but 
I believe an evening spent in reading a vile, 
sensational book is worse. If all boys and girls 
had such a home and such parents as ours, the 
missionary work for children would all be done 
at home. As things are, much of it must be 
done by outsiders.” 

“And in this locality, we seem to be some of 
the outsiders,” added Stark. 

“ Exactly, and it won’t do to wait till we 
have a chapel for carrying out our plans. We 
must go about the work in earnest just now. 
The room ought to be open all day Sunday, and 


A Neighborhood School. 147 

every evening. Half of the boys and young 
men, such as we hope to draw in, have no com- 
fortable place to spend their evenings. Now it 
is warm weather, they can stay out of doors, 
but the new saloon is to have music and danc- 
ing, and that will be a great attraction.’^ 

“ We can’t have music and dancing.” 

“We can have music, and something in the 
way of games, with plenty of illustrated papers. 
We must have them. Then, if we could get 
some sensible men who understand what ought 
to be done, to take turns, staying in the room 
evenings, and keeping order, we should be all 
right. Somebody else would do better than 
we can. Who is there ? ” 

“ Mr. Sawyer, Mr. Judd, and your lame tailor.” 
“ I don’t know about my lame tailor. I am 
afraid he lacks confidence.” 

“ But you say the boys all seem to like him.” 
“Yes, but I don’t know how he would get 
along with the young men. Whoever is in the 
room ought to give a five minutes’ talk every 
evening on some practical subject. Then once 
a month we ought to have a general social 
meeting, something like a picnic.” 

“ You have j)lanned for a great deal of work, 
Varney ; more even than Mr. Sinclair proposed.” 

“ Such work always grows on one’s hands. 
We have started on a big job, and it won’t do 


The A ttic Tenant, 


148 

to stop at the beginning. Last week I was in- 
vited to join two clubs. I declined, politely of 
course, but to-day, as I looked around, and 
thought of all we wanted to do, I felt as though 
I had joined the tallest kind of a club. 

Cousin Janet and Mercy must look after 
the women aud girls. They might start a cook- 
ing-school, a sewing-school, and a school for im- 
provement in general housekeeping. They will 
need to preach the gospel of soap and water, 
theoretically and practically.” 

“We will do what we can, but don’t over- 
whelm us at the outset,” said Mercy. “ I am 
more interested in old Mrs. Daly than any one 
else. I can hardly wait until to-morrow to call 
on her.” 

“You will find her poor enough. The street 
where she lives is quite shut in by two other 
streets. I don’t wonder she was glad to get 
out of it, if only for a little while to-day. Cousin 
Janet better go with you, when you call on her. 
There are some rough people there, and two 
will be likely ta command more respect than 
one.” 

It was the sultry afternoon of a sultry day ; 
such as makes the close streets of a city most 
unendurable, when Miss Burgen and Mercy Gal- 
vin went to Mrs. Daly’s home, consisting of two 
rooms and a shed ; the latter a most important 


A Neighborhood School, 149 

addition to the straitened quarters. In summer 
this served as kitchen, dining-room, sitting- 
room, and bed-room ; and it was here they 
found Mrs. Daly, seated in an old-fashioned 
chair which had been her mother’s. 

The chair, and a bed, she had managed to re- 
tain through all the changes of a changeful 
life; and so, in a certain degree, provide for her 
own comfort. " The floor of the shed had been 
rough, but many scourings had worn it compar- 
atively smooth. It was now as clean as hands 
could make it; everything was fresh and sweet, 
and the windows were shaded with English 
creepers, “ such as we used to have at home,” 
said Mrs. Daly. 

‘‘ It don’t take much ground for them to 
grow, and the shade makes it cooler. At flrst, 
the folks living in the house thought ’twas no 
use trying to make things more comfortable, 
but they have the creepers all ’round now.” 

‘‘ We noticed that as we came in,” replied 
Miss Burgen. It gives a different look to the 
house.” 

“ It does, and it makes the women and chil- 
dren care more to keep the inside clean. I’ve 
seen the change, and thanked the Lord for it. 
I didn’t have but two seeds when I first planted 
the creepers, but they grew and multiplied, till 
you see what there are, and plenty more seeds 


150 The Attic ^Tenant 

waiting to be planted. You wouldn’t believe 
how thankful I was when I found my two seeds 
had the old life in them. 

I learned, then, that there’s never a lot so 
dark but has something in it to be thankful 
for. I thought, once, I never could be glad of 
anything again, but I’ve lived to see my mis- 
take. When I heard of the meeting and Sun- 
day-school, I knew the Lord hadn’t forgotten 
us, and ever since I came home, yesterday, I’ve 
felt as though I could leave all my troubles with 
my Saviour, and just go on, doing the best I 
can, without complaining. I’ve told my neigh- 
bors about the meeting, and I think you’ll have 
more folks there next Sunday.” 

“Are there any children in the house old- 
enough to come ? ” asked Mercy. 

“ Oh, yes, but they are all in school now, 
except what are at work. There are twenty in 
this house, under eighteen years old, who ought 
to be in Sunday-school. There are three of my 
folks; and oh, how I wish they would go. 
They ain’t bad as some, but they need to be 
better. Their father don’t care, only to get 
their wages. 

“He spends money as he hadn’t ought to, 
’though I don’t want to say anything against 
him. He gives me a home, or lets me pay for 
it in a way that I can, and never speaks a cross 


^ Neighborhood School. 1 5 1 

word to me when he is himself. The boys call 
me granny, but all the relation I am to them 
was by way of their grandmother, who was m}' 
cousin.” 

So much was told, in reply to questions 
asked by her visitors. Of her personal 
history, previous to coming to her present 
home, she said little ; although one could not 
mistake the fact that she had seen much of 
trouble. 

If you could get hold of the three boys who 
call me granny, you would save three souls and 
prevent a multitude of sins. So far, I’ve 
kept them from drinking; but they won’t be 
satisfied much longer with what I can do for 
them, and there are plenty ready to lead them 
wrong. 

I’m afraid, every evening, they’ll go where 
they hadn’t ought to, and after all I’ve had to 
bear, it seems as though I couldn’t have them 
go wrong.” 

Do they care for reading ? ” 

“Yes, dear, they read everything they can 
get hold of, and it ain’t the best that they get 
either. There’s a trouble I can’t plan against. 
I’ve got a hymn-book and a Bible, and they’re 
enough for me ; but the boys want something 
else.” 

“We will plan for that, Mrs. Daly.” 


152 


The Attic Tenant, 


“ God bless you and help you in all your 
plans. I thought, yesterday, if my boys were 
with me, to hear the talk I did, they couldn^t 
help being made better by it. It don’t seem as 
though I could have them go wrong, but the 
Lord knows how it will be.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


, THE MEETma. 

Terky Breisthan could by no means appre- 
ciate the Bible talk and Bible teaching, as did 
Mrs. Daly, yet he was enthusiastic in reporting 
to his mother what he had seen and heard. 
He had never felt so happy in all his life be- 
fore. He wouldn’t miss a single Sunday for 
anything. Then, to crown all, Stoker Judd in- 
vited him to the attic, with the privilege of 
bringing his Testament, from which he read 
aloud. 

“ You have improved since you read to me 
before,” said his teacher. 

“ That is because I am always at it when I 
have a minute,” he replied. “ You see. I’d be 
ashamed not to know my lesson, so I study as 
hard as I can, and that keeps me reading.” 

Were there any men at the meeting ? ” 

“ Only Mr. Galvin and his brother. But 
there’ll be some men there next Sunday, and 
some big boys too.” 

How do you know that, Terry ? ” 

(153) 


154 


The Attic Tenant, 


“ Why, when we tell folks about to-day, 
they’ll want to go ; and I hope the meeting 
will be a good deal longer next time.” 

“ Were the children dressed up in nice 
clothes \ ” 

No, sir ; they couldn’t be. They haven’t 
any nice clothes. But they were clean, and Miss 
Galvin said that was all that was necessary. She 
wasn’t dressed up very much, nor Miss Burgen 
that lives with her. Mr. Galvin and his brother 
looked the same they do week days ; and they 
spoke to us all, and shook hands with us too. 

wish you’d go next Sunday, Stoker Judd.. 
You could. You’ve got some fit clothes to 
wear. I’ve seen you with them on, sometimes 
in the evening.” 

To this last remark Mr. Judd made no re- 
sponse, although he afterward spoke of the 
Sunday-school in such a way that Terry felt at 
liberty to continue a description of it. He was 
really interested, and when asked a question 
which was to be answered the next Sabbath, 
seemed quite to enjoy the study it cost him to 
give Terry the desired assistance. 

It is real good in you to tell me all that,” 
said the boy. I was afraid I shouldn’t know, 
unless Mr. Ililand could find it out. Now I am 
sure of being right about it, too, because you 
always know everything.” 


155 


The Meeting, 

“ No, indeed. Don’t ever think that.” 

But I do think it, Stoker Judd. I told 
Miss Galvin you knew a great many things you 
never say anything about, and I wish you’d go 
to Sunday-school and be one of the teachers. 
There’s got to be more teachers, because there’ll 
be a lot more scholars. If you’ll be my teacher, 
I’ll promise to get the biggest kind of a class 
for you.” 

I will be your teacher, here at home, but I 
shouldn’t know what to do in Sunday-school.” 

“ You could learn. We are all going to learn 
new things, and you’d be ever so glad after you 
got started.” 

This was a strange proposal to make to a man 
who had for many years ignored the Bible and 
its teachings. Equally strange to him was 
Stark Galvin’s request, made a few days later. 

“ I wish to engage you to talk ten minutes on 
temperance, Sunday afternoon,” said the young 
man. Not to give a temperance lecture, but 
to talk so the youngest child and the most ig- 
norant person present can understand you. We 
need to have a variety of speakers upon a vari- 
ety of subjects, and I have thought of you as 
just the one to speak upon temperance. You 
believe in temperance which is total abstinence.” 

‘‘ I do, Mr. Galvin, but I am not the one to 
talk about it in public.” 


The Attic Tenant, 


156 

It will hardly be in public. Ours is only a 
neighborhood meeting and Sunday-school for 
children, and grown people who, like all of us, 
need to be made better and happier. Of course, 
the Bible is our text-book, but the Bible treats 
of every subject pertaining to the welfare of 
mankind. Temperance holds a prominent place.” 

“ Temperance holds a prominent place in 
every code of morals. Intemperance is the 
curse of the world. Were it not for that we 
should have few paupers and fewer criminals. 
Liquor-saloons are taking bread from the mouths 
of the hungry, and filling our Jails and prisons.” 

“That is true, Mr. Judd, and I have heard 
you say that the best way to close a saloon is 
to take away its customers by providing for 
them a more attractive place, where they can 
be made to see that there is something better 
than wasting time and money in drinking liquor 
and listening to vile songs and viler conversa- 
tion.” 

“ That is what I have always thought, Mr. 
Galvin, ever since I have thought anything upon 
the subject. There must be something which 
appeals to the senses of the average man, as 
well as to his reason. It is of no use to talk of 
the benefits of total abstinence, when the mer- 
cury is below zero, to a man standing by a well- 
lighted, well-warmed liquor-saloon ; and he 


The Meeting. 1 5 7 

knows there is no other place open to him, 
where he can be comfortable. 

“ It takes more will and what you call prin- 
ciple, than the average man possesses, to turn 
away and seek some cold, lonely attic, or crowd- 
ed room, where poverty holds high carnival. 
And, Mr. Galvin, there are hundreds of men, 
both young and old, in this city, w^ho have no 
other choice.” 

“ Somewhere there is something wrong, or it 
would not be so.” 

I grant that, but who can right the wrong ? 
Neither you nor I can go back to the beginning 
and change the ordering of events.” 

We cannot do that, but we can. help some 
of our neighbors to better and happier lives 
than they are now living. I know you believe 
in that, Mr. Judd. Your neighbors testify to 
your kindness and helpfulness.” 

I try to do a little in my own way, but I 
am no talker, outside of a limited circle.” 

We shall be disappointed if you do not help 
us. We have counted on you. We must have 
help to carry out our plans.” 

In a few words Stark Galvin told his com- 
panion v/hat they wished to do, in addition to 
holding a Sunday service ; asking, as he closed : 

“ Do you think our plan feasible % ” 

“ Certainly, if you are willing to pay the 


The Attic Tenant. 


158 

price to make it so. You will need to work 
hard, long, and well. It will cost you time and 
money, and you wdll meet with a good many 
discouragements, but it can be done, if you are 
equal to it.” 

“ Unaided, we are not equal to it. Of course, 
we should not attempt anything of the kind, if 
we did not believe the blessing of God would 
rest upon our enterprise ; but with that we must 
have substantial assistance from men and women 
of larger experience than we have.” 

“ Missionary work is hardly in my line.” 

We will not call this missionary work.” 

It is nothing else, Mr. Galvin ; but if you 
will allow me to make a suggestion, it will be 
best to let your neighbors feel that they are 
under obligation to pay something for the priv- 
ileges they are to enjoy. Many of them can 
pay very little, but the poorest can occasionally 
give a penny.” 

“ I had thought of that, and reached the same 
conclusion. But I will hot trouble you further.” 

‘Wou have not troubled me, except as a man 
is troubled when he finds himself in danger of 
being pushed out of his beaten track. Outside, 
he is not sure of his steps, until he has exam- 
ined the ground. I must look about me a little 
before I decide whether to yield to your push- 
ing.” 


159 


The Meeting, 

If you are not pleased with the new path, 
you can return to the old one.’^ 

“No, Mr. Galvin, I cannot. Once out of the 
old path, 1 cannot return to it. You cannot un- 
derstand that, and I cannot explain it; but 
whatever is my decision, be sure of this : I shall 
be sorry to deny you any favor you may ask of 
me.” 

“ Thank you. Good-morning.” 

When the young man had gone, Mr. Judd 
passed his hand several times across his fore- 
head, as if seeking to brush away some unpleas- 
ant memories; and often, during the day, al- 
though not neglecting his work, he stood for 
minutes at a time, as if oblivious of his sur- 
roundings. 

In his attic room, that evening, he paced the 
floor for hours, only pausing now and then to 
look through the window, from which he caught 
glimpses of the starlit sky, fair and beautiful, 
shining abovm him. How the questions he asked 
himself again and again, would be answered, 
only the future could reveal. 

Meanwhile, Varney Galvin had ordered the 
necessary papers for distribution, the following 
Sabbath. 

“ I don’t know as I shall need half I have 
ordered, but I intend to be sure of enough,” he 
said to his sister. “ I can dispose of them some 


i6o The Attic Tenant, 

way. I liave tried to have some suitable for all 
ages and conditions, and after a few Sabbaths, 
I can tell which are best liked. It will take a 
good deal of engineering to hold some of the 
young people we hope to bring in. Bringing 
them in will not be the hardest part of it. They 
will need constant watching.” 

“ I hope Mrs. Daly can persuade her three 
boys to come with her, next Sunday,” remarked 
Mercy. 

“ I hope so too. If not, I must try and make 
their acquaintance during the week.” 

“You might go with me to call on Mrs. Daly, 
this evening. When I was there, Monday, I 
promised to carry her some receipts for nice, 
cheap cooking, and the sooner she has them, the 
better. She said she was always glad to give 
the boys something new in the way of cooking, 
but most dishes cost so much, she couldn^t get 
the material for them.” 

“ That will furnish a good excuse for calling, 
and make a good beginning for your cooking- 
school. In the evening we shall be likely to find 
the boys at home. I can talk with them, while 
you are talking with Mrs, Daly.” 

Providence favored the visitors. The three 
boys had just risen from the supper-table, and 
were standing by the door, as if undecided 
whether to go out or remain at home. Evident- 


The Meeting. i6i 

ly, they were shy of strangers, but under the 
influence of Varney G-alvin’s genial manners, 
they soon forgot their shyness. 

Their names were Hunter, Hubbard, and 
Hulsey Abrams, although these names were so 
uniformly abbreviated, they seldom thought of 
their claim to anything more than the mono- 
syllables by which they were addressed. 

“ A fellow don’t hardly know what to do 
with himself, when it comes evening,” said 
Hunter, in response to a remark intended to 
call forth some expression of interest. “ Gram 
ny has told us all the stories she knows, and wo 
have read everything we could get to read ; so 
there don’t seem to be much left for us. Perhaps 
we are outgrowing what used to please us when 
we were younger, ’though granny is just as good 
as she ever was.” 

There couldn’t anybody be any better,” add- 
ed Hulsey. She does all the work for us, and 
don’t hardly ever go anywhere ; only she went 
to meeting last Sunday. She liked it, and told 
us so much about it, we know how it was, 
almost as well as she does.” 

“We mean to have a better meeting, next 
Sunday, and whoever comes will have a paper 
to carry home. If you three will come, you will 
have three papers, no two alike.” 

“ That would be worth going for. Hubbard 


i 62 


The Attic Tenant. 


would like that. He is the best reader, and 
granny says, if he had a chance, he’d make a 
grand scholar for sums.” 

What kind of a chance do you need, Hub- 
bard \ ” 

A book to study, and somebody to tell me 
about it.” 

“ You shall have the book, and I will tell you 
about it.” 

The boy to whom assistance was thus prom- 
ised found it difficult to express his gratitude 
in words, but there was no mistaking the ex- 
pression of his face, or the light in his eyes. It 
was like the sudden shining of the sun after a 
day of clouds and gloom. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THREE BOYS. 

Mrs. Daly was present with her three boys ; 
the latter looking so eager and expectant, that 
few would think of the clothes they wore. 
These were the best they had, sponged and 
brushed to the highest degree of cleanliness. 

Varney Galvin had met them at the door, 
welcoming them right cordially. Others, too, 
who came for the first time received cordial 
welcomes ; the room gradually filling until there 
were few empty seats. 

Mr. Judd was there to see for himself what 
the meeting might be. If he was to take part 
in it at any time, he wished to measure the au- 
dience and know how it was moved by the re- 
marks of others. 

As before, Stark Galvin conducted the serv- 
ice ; the opening services being more impress- 
ive, from the fact that so many were able to 
join in the singing. His short address was an 
earnest plea for a higher standard of living, to 
which all might attain, if they would practice 

(163) 


The Attic Te^iant. 


164 

the requisite self-control and self-denial. That 
he touched some hearts was proved hy tear- 
dimmed eyes and quickened breathings ; so re- 
acting upon himself that his words gained an 
added pathos. 

Mr. Judd declined taking any part in the 
Sunday-school, yet he remained through the 
session an interested spectator. At the close, 
he waited to speak with Mr. Galvin, to whom 
he said : 

“ I will talk upon temperance, next Sunday, 
and I don’t mind telling you that when I heard 
what you had done for Mrs. Butman, I said to 
myself : 

“ ^ A man who will do that deserves to be 
helped in carrying out his plans to help others.’ 
Of course, you understand that I am not a re- 
ligious man, and what I say will not be from 
the Bible stand-point, but I think I can prom- 
ise to have regard to the best interests of those 
who listen to me.” 

“ That is sufficient for my purpose, Mr. Judd. 
When I looked around to-day, I felt how utterly 
inadequate’ we are to the work we have under- 
taken.” 

“You can do it, if any one can, but it seems 
strange to most people that you should care to 
spend time and money in this way. I thought 
so myself, but as I have been thinking more 


Three Boys, 


165 

about it, I have come to the conclusion that it 
will prove a good investment financially. As 
fast as you improve the manners and style of 
living of the people in this part of the city, you 
wdll raise the value of your real estate.” 

I had not taken that into consideration.” 

“ I presume not, but one improvement always 
makes way for another. When you have com- 
pleted your chapel, with all its accessories, you 
will see improvements in every direction. Then 
you are making friends, who will stand by you 
through everything. The boys and girls in 
your Sunday-school will never forget what you 
said to them to-day. It lifted them up out of 
their poverty and coarseness, and gave them 
faith in themselves and in the possibilities of 
their lives. Why, Mr. Galvin, you stirred even 
me, and made me feel that one need not despair 
because of the sins and mistakes of his youth. 

“ There were some good faces here to-day,” 
added Mr. Judd, as if regretting the allusion he 
had made to himself. “ But you preached to a 
much larger congregation than you saw; and 
the papers distributed by your brother will be 
read in at least a hundred homes.” 

“We expect them to go where we could not 
speak a word of remonstrance or of advice.” 

“ They will. Children are good distributors, 
as well as good reporters, and any one who ever 


i66 


The Attic Tenant, 


reads at all will read a story, and remember it 
too, when they wouldn’t look at a tract. I 
never did believe, in distributing tracts among 
the very poor. They want bread more than 
they want preaching.” 

“ Yet they may need preaching, even more 
than they need bread.” 

“ Possibly, Mr. Galvin, but tell them how to 
get the bread, and after that they may be will- 
ing to hear the preaching. But 1 am not a 
philanthropist. My life has been too narrow 
for that ; but I shall rejoice in all your success, 
and you will be a philanthropist of the best 
type, if you keep boys and young men away 
from liquor-saloons. The saloon opposite will 
light you at every step, and I am ready to help 
you retaliate. I v/ill come here to-morrow even- 
ing, when you open the room, and do what I 
can for you.” 

It must be confessed that when Mr. Judd re- 
turned to his attic it seemed to him lonelier 
than usual ; the heat seemed more intense, and 
the frugal supper less appetizing. He was glad 
when he heard Terry’s step on the stairs, and 
kept the boy with him until the sun went 
down ; answering questions, and listening to 
various comments, frankly uttered. 

“ I tell you, we are all of us, no matter how 
poor we are, just going to be somebody,” said 


Three Boys, 167 

the young visitor. Lots of us boys promised, 
after we came out to-day, to do just as near as 
we could what Mr. Galvin told us. We don’t 
expect ever to be as rich as he is, but we can be 
as well off as he used to be, because he earned 
all that himself. 

“ Winnie Moran said she didn’t care how hard 
things are at home, now she knows there’s some- 
thing good coming.” 

“ How does she know that, Terry \ Has her 
father stopped drinking liquor ? ” 

“Not a bit of it. He keeps right on, as bad 
as ever, and her mother drinks beer all the 
same, but she believes the Testament some way 
different from what I do. She says Jesus Christ, 
she reads about, helps her, so she is happy all 
the time. She says, too, she shouldn’t be a bit 
afraid, if she knew she should die in a minute. 

“ She prays for her father and mother, and 
she has beautiful dreams. She is dreadful tired, 
though, and sometimes, when she is talking, she 
holds her hand on her side, it hurts so.” 

“Is she down-stairs, with your mother ? ” 

“ No ; she said she was going to read her pa- 
per to the children, and show them the pictures. 
Then she is going to leave it where her father 
can’t help seeing it, so perhaps he’ll read it 
too.” 

“ Is Winnie ever hungry now ? ” 


1 68 The Attic Tenant. 

“ Not much. She don’t want much to eat, 
’though mother says she needs more and better 
than she gets. Mother gives her some, when 
we have anything nice. Did you hear her sing 
to-day, Mr. Judd ?” 

“ I don’t know that I thought of her singing, 
only to notice that she sung with the others.” 

“ She sings beautiful, and she is so glad to 
learn, so that she can sing better when she gets 
to Heaven. She sings to the children, and one 
night last week her father asked her to sing to 
him. She was real glad ; and he told her he 
wished she’d learn some more hymns. She 
learned one more to-day, and I shouldn’t wonder 
if she was singing it now.” 

Mr. Judd had not recognized Winnie Mo- 
ran’s voice in the singing, but Mrs. Daly heard 
every note, and watched with tender interest 
the child whose thin, pale face appealed to her 
motherly heart. 

There is a little girl that needs better care 
than she’s getting,” said the old lady to Mercy 
Galvin, as Winnie passed them on her way out. 
“ She has the wrong look in her eyes, and she 
sings too much as I expect children will sing in 
Heaven. I wish I had a place for her, so I 
could have her with me a little while. I want 
somebody to save her.” 

In her home, no one ever thought of saving 


Three Boys. 169 

Winnie ; her stepmother, least of all. It was a 
great concession to allow her to attend Sunday- 
school ; but her father insisted upon that ; and 
when she showed him her paper, and told him 
she had learned a new hymn, he looted into 
the face of his little daughter with new interest. 

He was sober. For some reason he had not 
cared to accompany his wife to the rooms of a 
neighbor, where there was sure to be loud talking, 
much profanity, and plenty of beer. So he was 
alone with the children when Winnie came in, al- 
most breathless from the exertion she had made. 

I wish you’d read the paper out loud, so we 
can all hear,” she said timidly. “ I’m so tired, 
seems as though I couldn’t ; and I want to get 
rested, so to sing my, new hymn. It was beauti- 
ful at the meeting to-day, and there were so many, 
I don’t believe they can all get in next Sunday. 

“ Miss Galvin is coming to see me to-morrow, 
and she said she hoped she should see my father. 
Perhaps she’ll come in the evening, with her 
brother. I hope she will ; don’t you % ” 

“ I don’t know. We don’t look fit for such 
grand folks to visit.” 

“ But I’ll make everything just as clean as I 
can, and perhaps mother’ll have the children 
clean. Now you read, won’t you ? ” 

Such a sight had never been seen before as 
this father with his children gathered around 


170 


The A ttic Tenant, 


him, but he could not well resist Winnie’s 
pleadings, and soon became so much interested 
in what he read, that although he stumbled 
fearfully, he persevered until the younger chil- 
dren were fast asleep. Then he said : 

“ It is no matter about my reading out loud 
any more, because you can read for yourself 
and make more sense out of it than I can. I’m 
a poor scholar. I never had much chance to 
learn, when I was a boy, and since then, I’vc/ 
had to work too hard, to care for learning.” 

“ But, father, Mr. Galvin says there’s a chance 
for everybody, if they only try in the right way, 
and I’m going to try for us all. Won’t you 
help me, father ? I used to think it wouldn’t 
do any good to try, but it does ; it does.” 

Here the child pressed her hand to her side, 
while her face became so utterly colorless, that 
her father, who had never observed this weak- 
ness before, caught her in his arms and held 
her, as he had not done since she was a baby. 
As she rallied, she put her hands to his face 
and kissed him; then sinking back, lay with 
closed eyes, “ resting beautiful.” 

All that was good in Mr. Moran’s nature re- 
sponded to this mute appeal for sympathy, and 
for the remainder of the day nothing more was 
required of her in the way of work. 

The next evening came Miss Galvin with her 


Three Boys. 


171 


brother Varney, fortunately finding the father 
at home ; and after making a short call, they 
invited Winnie to spend a week with a dear old 
lady who wanted her for company. 

“ Is it the one with the queer black bonnet ? ” 
asked Winnie ; so overjoyed, that she forgot her 
usual timidity. 

The very same,” replied Miss Gralvin. “ She 
makes her home very pleasant, and I am sure 
you would be happy with her, besides making 
her happy.” 

The child looked from her father to her step- 
mother ; the latter frowning ominously, yet so 
overawed by the presence of strangers, that she 
did not presume to remonstrate, when, after 
some hesitation, her husband gave his consent 
to the proposed visit. 

“A change will do Winnie good, and it is 
very kind in you all to think of her,” he said 
civilly, adding : “We are poor folks, and can’t 
dress her nice for visiting. She will have to go 
as she is.” 

“ That will be all right, Mr. Moran, and I 
thank you for allowing her to go. I will come 
for her to-morrow morning at nine o’clock.” 

“ It don’t seem as if it could be true,” whis- 
pered Winnie over and over again that night, 
as she lay down to dream more beautiful dreams 
than ever before. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


SALOON ATTEACTIONS. 

To all inquiries as to what attractions would 
be offered in “ the meeting-room,” during the 
evenings of the week, the invariable answer 
was, “ Come and see.” As a result, many came, 
and although they who had initiated the move- 
ment were somewhat at a loss, it was not found 
difficult to interest the boys and young men to 
whom the novelty of the occasion furnished en- 
tertainment. 

In the saloon opposite, there was the singing 
of ribald songs, and dancing to the music of a 
cracked violin, with a half-drunken player. 
Here, there was the singing of hymns, with ex- 
ercises on a blackboard, testing the ability of 
those present to solve simple problems in math- 
ematics. 

These exercises were interspersed with state- 
ments of facts, to which reference was afterward 
made, in order to fix them firmly in the mind. 
Such care was taken to prevent anything like 
weariness, that when the allotted time had ex- 
pired, all would gladly have remained longer. 

(172) 


Saloon Attractions. 


173 


Mr. Judd proved himself an able assistant ; 
quite surpassing Stark Galvin’s expectations, 
which was not easily done. It was plain to be 
seen that he had produced a favorable impres- 
sion, and when told that he would be in charge 
of the room Tuesday evening, the boys cheered 
heartily. There was necessarily a little confu- 
sion in leaving, yet all went quietly to their 
homes, thinking of what they had heard and 
wondering what they would next hear. 

It will be your turn, Wednesday evening, 
and you can invite Mr. Hiland to act as your 
assistant,” said Stark Galvin to his brother. “ If 
he does half as well as Mr. Judd has done, you 
will have reason to be congratulated.” 

‘^Mr. Hiland is not like Mr. Judd, but he 
will do the best he can,” was replied. “He 
is improving, every way, and you will see 
him, next Sunday, without fail, but he may 
be too busy to leave his shop, Wednesday 
evening. 

“ He and Mrs. Murkland are doing a flourish- 
ing business in their line. Well-made, cheap 
clothing is in demand ; and besides giving good 
bargains, Hiland has a word of encouragement 
for every customer. The illuminated texts 
always call forth some remark from those who 
see them for the first time. His window, full 
of blossoming plants and vines, attracts atten- 


174 Attic Tenant, 

tion, and once a man or boy is inside, he is in no 
hurry to go.’^ 

“ If he is a good workman, he ought to have 
a better place,’^ remarked Cousin Janet. 

“ I told him so, but he prefers not to change. 
He says he is needed where he is, and now he 
is exerting such an influence for good in the 
neighborhood, I should be sorry to have him 
leave.” 

When talking with Mr. Hiland, Terry said : 

“ It’s ever so different from what it was before 
Mr. Galvin came to see you, and it’s ever so dif- 
ferent all around, where they go. I tell you 
there’s nothing like their meetings and Sunday- 
school for bracing a fellow up and making him 
feel good.” 

The occupants of the cottages in Dabney Street 
watched with the greatest interest the progress 
of the chapel, anxious to see its completion, that 
they might share in its benefits. 

The workmen were interested ; discussing the 
enterprise in its relation to the community; 
some commending, and some condemning, yet all 
praising the liberality of those who were mak- 
ing so large an outlay for others. Those who 
had at first protested that a chapel would be no 
more to the people than any other building 
were beginning to think differently. 

“ It has had an influence already,” said one 


I 

Saloon Attractions. 175 

man to another. “ It has kept a first-class liquor- 
saloon out of this part of the city. Soon after 
Mr. Dabney’s de^th, a man who wished to in- 
vest some money in a paying business, proposed 
to buy a building lot near here, and build ‘ an 
attractive resort for men of all ages.’ The min- 
ute he heard of this chapel, he turned his atten- 
tion to another part of the city. He didn’t care 
to try a running fight with the Galvins. It 
might have done with some professed Christians, 
but the Galvins are of a different stamp.” 

“ The man had a right to start business where 
he pleased, without considering them, if he had 
a legal permit.” 

They had the same right to start business, 
too, and he was wise enough to see that if they 
succeeded, their success would tell against him. 
They would ruin his business.” 

“They would have no right to do that.” 

“ They would, if it was done in a Christian 
way, and you would own it, if you were not in 
the same boat. Old Stark Dabney would never 
allow a drop of liquor to be sold on his premises, 
because he thought it bad policy. Young 
Stark Galvin thinks that, and more too, and 
there’s all the difference in the world between 
them.” 

“Anybody can see the. difference. One made 
the money, and the other is spending it. Easily 


The Attic Tenant. 


176 

come, easily go. The Dabney fortune will be 
scattered to the winds.’’ 

You are mistaken in that prophecy. Galvin 
only needs experience to make him as good a 
business man as his uncle, and it would not be 
easy to overreach him now. He is sharp, ’though 
honest as the day, and reliable as the sun.” 

“ How do you know that ? Have you ever 
done business with him \ ” 

“No; but I have heard men talk who have 
done business with him, aud watched him close 
too ; and I tell you he will make his mark among 
the business men of this city.” 

Even Mr. Hutton was ready to endorse this 
opinion, notwithstanding the philanthropic 
efforts with which he had no sympathy. He 
had been convinced, against his prejudices, that 
money thus bestowed was not always a sacrifice 
for which there was no compensation. He re- 
garded Stark Galvin with profound respect, 
which every interview increased. 

After acquaintance, no one would presume to 
accuse the family of seeking companionship 
among the low and degraded, notwithstanding 
they were so often seen in the homes of the 
poor. The fact that they were Christians, hav- 
ing a high ideal of Christian living, was soon 
accepted. That they would make enemies in 
certain quarters, was to be expected. When the 


Saloon Attractions. 


177 


saloon-keeper knew that a room opposite his 
place of business had been leased for religious 
purposes, he expressed his disapprobation in no 
measured terms. 

“We’ll break that up,” he said with an oath. 
“ Men and boys care more for a glass of beer, 
with music and dancing thrown in, than they 
do for preaching and psalm-singing. The Gal- 
vins have money on their side, but I have human 
nature, and I am bound to win.” 

If he could have kept his saloon open on 
Sunday, he would have been more confident ; 
but the law forbade such desecration, and back 
of the law there was public opinion, not yet 
wholly demoralized. A week’s experience, dur- 
ing which he managed to inform himself of most 
which transpired over the way, caused him to 
place a different estimate upon the influence 
opposing him. 

There was singing with far better voices than 
any heard in his saloon. There was something 
to be learned each evening. There were encour- 
aging words and substantial assistance for those 
who needed them. There was the promise of 
better things in the future, with helpful hands 
extended to the poor and neglected. 

The habitues of the saloon could not fail to 
be interested, since discussion always awakens 
interest ; and there were some half inclined to 


178 The Attic Tena 7 it. 

test the comparative merits of the two places 
of resort. 

I say, Jones, let’s try an evening across the 
street, for a change,” said one young man to an- 
other, as they were standing by the saloon door, 
watching those who were going up the stairs to 
the meeting-room.” “ To tell the truth, I go 
away from this place, feeling as though I’d 
taken a step down, every time, and when Satur- 
day night comes ’round, it’s a chance if I have 
a dollar to my name. I wasn’t brought up to 
spend time and money as I’ve been spending 
them since I came to the city.” 

‘•"No more was I ; but a fellow must go some- 
where after he gets through work, and the saloons 
seemed about the only places where I was sure 
of a welcome. I get enough to eat and a place to 
sleep, where I board, and that is all I do get.” 

‘‘ It’s the same with me. I left the old farm, 
because I thought I could do better in the city, 
but so far it has all been worse; and now I 
should be ashamed to look the folks at home in 
the face. I don’t write home very often, either. 
I haven’t anything to say about myself anybody 
there would want to hear. I thought I’d go to 
the chapel when it’s done, but I sha’n’t be fit to 
go to any decent place, if I keep on as I’ve be- 
gun. I don’t want to think I never shall be any 
better off than I am now.” 


Saloon Attractions, 


179 


‘‘ Nor I, either. I used to dream of being rich 
and living in a fine house, and having people 
look up to me. I suppose most boys dream of 
such things.” 

“ I guess they do if they have any ambition, 
unless they just go in for books and learning. 
I never cared much about books.” 

“ Nor I, either ; but I’ll tell you what I did 
care for. I wanted to sing, and play on some 
instrument. I can sing some now, and it 
always seemed to me there was some music in 
my fingers, if I could only get it out. One of 
our neighbors had a wheezy old melodeon I 
used to play on, every time I could get a chance ; 
and I thought then I’d spend the very first 
money I earned, for a keyed instrument. Instead 
of that, here I am, with nothing better to do 
than lounging ’round a rum-shop.” 

“Do something better, and begin this very 
evening. Let us turn over a new leaf and start 
on a new track. I will if you will.” 

“ Agreed. Shake hands on it,” and the two 
young men shook hands right heartily; then 
walked across the street and up the stairs, 
when they were met by Varney Galvin, who 
had seen them before they left the saloon door. 

“We are happy to welcome you,” he said. “ I 
was wishing more would join us. Take singing- 
books, please. I hope you can sing, for we have 


i8o The Attic Tenant. 

just voted to spend half an hour in singing. 
We intend to have a cabinet organ to lead us 
as soon as we can secure a player.” 

“Perhaps the player is here,” said Webster 
Baker. “ My friend, Alvah Jones, knows some- 
thing about playing.” 

“Then you are doubly welcome, and I hope 
we may count you among our helpers.” 

The strangers felt at home at once; joining 
in the singing, and taking part in the general 
exercises. At the close, Varney Galvin took 
care that they did not leave until he had an 
opportunity to talk with them; when, after 
some hesitation, they told him why they had 
come there. 

“We were tired of the saloon and thought we 
would try for something better,” said Jones. 

“ I hope you feel that you found something bet- 
ter than drinking in a liquor-saloon,” was replied. 

“We do,” answered the two in a breath. “ It 
has seemed a little like home, when we used to 
go to the old school-house, and sing, and have 
what we called a debate upon some question.” 

“Then I hope you will come again. The 
room will be open every evening, as long as 
any one is interested to meet us here. None of 
us who have undertaken this are great scholars, 
but we will provide teachers for all who wish 
to learn more than we can teach them.” 


Saloon A Ur actions. 1 8 1 

You will see us again to-morrow evening, 
and perhaps then, we shall look more respecta- 
ble. Anything is good enough to wear in a 
rum-shop.” 

True to their promise, Webster Baker and 
Alvah Jones were at the room the next even- 
ing, being the first there after the door was 
opened. 

You see we have an organ, because we ex- 
pected a player,” said Varney Galvin, who had 
his own reasons for volunteering to take his 
brother’s place that evening. 

“ I am afraid you will be disappointed if you 
counted on me as a player,” responded Alvah 
Jones with some embarrassment. “ I have never 
taken any regular lessons, and it is more than 
six months since I have touched an instrument.” 

“ Will you do the best you can for us \ ” 

I will, and if I live six months longer, I will 
do the best I can for myself. I have been a 
fool, but I believe I am now in my right mind, 
and sometime I shall be decently clothed.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A WHEEL WITHIH A WHEEL. 

Twice had Stoker Judd read the letter now 
open before him; yet he read it again, with 
scowling brow and tightly compressed lips. It 
contained a request for an interview, that even- 
ing, couched in such language as showed the 
writer’s anxiety. 

“ What now, Sam Ryder ? ” he asked sharply, 
half an hour later, when they met in the same 
restaurant where the demand had been made 
for Hector Mowatt’s money. 

“I am in trouble,” was replied. 

“You deserve it.” 

“ Have some mercy on me for once, Judd.” 

“You have shown no mercy. Why should 
you expect it from others ; least of all from me ? ” 

“ But I am in such trouble now that I shall 
certainly be driven to suicide unless somebody 
helps me. I will kill myself, rather than go to 
prison. I always told you I would.” 

“ The world would then be rid of a villain 
for whom no one would mourn. For myself, I 
should be glad to know you were dead.” 

(182) 


A Wheel within a Wheel, 183 

Don’t, Judd, don’t. Give me money enough 
to take me out of the way, and I will never ask 
another favor of you as long as I live.” 

“ Get your money where you do your work. 
Did old Tremlow take all your winnings ? ” 

“ I have had bad luck. Everything has gone 
against me, and I haven’t a dollar in my pocket. 
Lend me ten dollars, and I promise you on my 
word and honor that I will go to work and earn 
an honest living. If not, I shall write to Allan 
and ” 

‘^No more threats from you, Sam Ryder. Let 
that boy alone, or it will be worse for you.” 

“ He is more than a boy now, and I have a 
claim on him.” 

“ I have a claim on you. But I am not here 
to discuss that. If you have nothing further to 
say, I will go.” 

I have something further to say. I must 
raise some money, and if you will loan me even 
a few dollars, it will help me. I will pay it 
back as soon as I can earn it.” 

“ At the same time you pay me ten thousand 
dollars, with interest on the same for twenty 
years ? When you do that I will lend you some 
money. It would give me a comfortable for- 
tune. I should have no trouble in making peo- 
ple believe you a thief or a murderer.” 

You are complimentary, as usual. Perhaps 


184 The Attic Tenant, 

you forget that I could tell some things not 
much to your credit. I checkmated you once, 
and I can do it again. Christine Kneeland 
would never marry a drunkard.” 

“ Don’t dare to speak her name, you wretch. 
You are not fit to live in the same world with 
her.” 

These words were hissed, rather than spoken, 
and so angry was the speaker, that his compan- 
ion fairly cowered in affright. 

‘‘You will hang yourself yet, Sam Eyder. 
You have confessed your guilt, but I knew it 
long ago. I think I know just how much I am 
indebted to you. If you try to injure me fur- 
ther, I will make sure that you receive your 
punishment. I would not give you a crust, if I 
saw you starving.” 

Sam Kyder was desperate, as he muttered: 
“ Curse the day I ever saw you. You have al- 
ways been in my way.” 

“ And you may count on my always being in 
your way. Don’t send to me again. I shall not 
come.” 

“ What if you send for me ? ” 

“ It will be for your interest to appear at the 
time appointed.” 

Stoker Judd returned to his attic to fight over 
again the battle with himself; such a battle as 
tests the moral and intellectual strength of the 


A Wheel within a Wheel. 185 

strongest man. How often "he had done this ; 
recalling the same scenes, listening to the same 
voices, weeping at the same graves, and at last 
bracing himself anew to submit to the inevi- 
table. 

The next day, the city papers reported the 
arrest of a veteran gambler, whose real name was 
unknown, but whose aliases and disguises were 
as varied as the months of the year. He was sup- 
posed to be well-connected, although he refused 
to give any information in regard to himself. That 
he had expected to make good his escape was 
evident, and even after his arrest he seemed in no 
way despondent. A well-known saloon-keeper 
was suspected of complicity with him, but nothing 
could induce him to criminate this man. The 
nearest approach to it was the muttered threat : 

“ If I go down, I will drag others down with 
me. I am not the only sinner.” 

Late the next evening, this saloon-keeper was 
shown into a luxuriously furnished room where 
a gentleman was sitting alone, apparently quite 
at his ease. The late caller wore a slouched hat, 
drawn well over his eyes, which were otherwise 
shaded by colored glasses. A heavy beard and 
mustache concealed his features ; but no sooner 
had the door closed behind him, than hat, 
glasses, beard, and mustache were removed, 
showing a clean-shaven face and gleaming eyes. 


i86 


The Attic Tenant, 


What brings you here ? ” asked the occupant 
of the room, with a terrible oath. 

“ I have come for money,” was replied. I 
must have it too. Lambert must be set at lib- 
erty, and it will take money to do it. His fine 
must be paid, and you are the man to do it.” 

“ Not if 1 know myself, and I think I do.” 

“ You live in grand style and pass for a de- 
cent man, while everybody curses the men who 
act as your agents in a business that deserves 
the curses it gets. You take the lion’s share of 
the profits, and leave somebody else to bear the 
disgrace.” 

“You are. not obliged to continue in a cursed 
business.” 

“ I shall not continue in it another day. I 
have come here, to-night, for a final settle- 
ment.” 

“We will make it final,” hissed the elegantly 
dressed mao. “ It is time one of us was out of 
the way, and I am not the one to go.” 

“ No threats. Bangs,” exclaimed his compan- 
ion. “ I know you so well, that I thought best 
to guard against accidents. I have written a 
letter my wife will receive early to-morrow 
morning, unless I intercept it. I told her I 
was coming here, and I told her some other 
things too; so if I turn up missing, she will 
know where to look for me. You see I am pre- 


A Wheel within a Wheel. 187 

pared for any emergency. Lambert will re- 
ceive some information that will astonish him, 
and society will be shocked at some revelations 
that will be made.’^ 

“ I believe you are the very devil incarnate, 
Grant.” 

“Not exactly, Bangs, but I have been his 
servant so long, I am afraid I resemble him. I 
know you hate to part with your money, but 
there is no help for it, so you may as w^ell cash 
over. Your bride can do with fewer diamonds. 
With such a handsome husband, she won’t care 
much for anything else.” 

A terrible oath escaped the lips of the man 
thus tantalized, and had he dared to do so, he 
would have strangled his companion on the spot. 

“ Mind your own business, or you will suffer 
for your insolence. You are too low down to 
speak of some things.” 

“ That may be true ; but low down or high 
up, I mean business. I have put my share of 
last month’s profits in a safe place, so that is 
all right. Your share is in my pocket.” 

“Then keep it, and let me hear no more from 
you.” 

“ I must have more than that.” 

“ How much more ? ” 

The sum was stated, and this called forth 
another oath with an accompanying threat. 


i88 


The Attic Tenant, 


The saloon-keeper, however, maintained his 
ground; and after a prolonged interview, an 
agreement was made by which his demand 
could be met without compromising his com- 
panion. 

Assured of this, the visitor donned his dis- 
guises and was shown to the door by his host, 
who hastened back to the room which had been 
the scene of their altercation. He drank a glass 
of brandy, counted out a roll of bills, and then 
threw himself upon a couch for the remainder 
of the night. 

He would have considered himself disgraced, 
to be known as a professional gambler, but he 
had an interest in more than one gaming-house. 
To stand behind the bar and dispense liquors 
to a crowd would have seemed to him the very 
depth of degradation, yet he shared in the prof- 
its of several saloons ; some of which were no- 
torious for their vileness. He was accustomed 
to sharp turnings in his life; and now after 
careful deliberation, he fancied his plans so well 
laid that detection was impossible. 

Early the next morning, the saloon-keeper 
received the money which had been demanded ; 
letters were intercepted and Lambert was set at 
liberty. 

Mr. Judd did not understand all this; but 
when, a few days later, a series of villainies was 


A Wheel within a WheeL 189 

traced to one who had figured somewhat promi- 
nently in fashionable society, he associated the 
unmasked villain with Sam Ryder. 

“There was a w^heel within a wheel,” he re- 
marked to Stark Galvin, who had spoken of 
the leading item of news in a daily paper. 
“The worst scoundrels often go unwhipped of 
justice. There is many a man living in lux- 
ury on the profits of most nefarious business. 
They move in good society, and sometimes pro- 
fess to be Christians, while the men who act for 
them are looked upon as monsters of wicked- 
ness. You have not seen enough of such hy- 
pocrisy as to make you lose faith in profes- 
sions.” 

“No, Mr. Judd, I have not, and IJbope I 
never shall. My experience is very limited, 
but I have known so many thoroughly good 
people, that I am slow to believe any one 
wholly bad.” 

“I wish I had been so fortunate; but with 
my experience, it is hard for me to believe in 
any real goodness. I am always looking for 
some sinister motive. When a man deliberate- 
ly plans to ruin one younger than himself, that 
he may get the boy in his power and rob his 
victim of a few thousand dollars, I think that 
man is wholly given over to the devil. There 
is nothing good about him.” 


190 


The Attic Tenant. 


“ It is impossible for me to conceive of such 
a man, Mr. Judd.” 

“I can conceive of just such a man, Mr. Gal- 
vin, and in my opinion there is no punishment 
too severe for him. If the men and women who 
profess to live lives of purity and uprightness 
would do as much to help their neighbors up, 
as the unprincipled and vicious are doing to 
drag them down, goodness would soon be the 
rule, instead of the exception. You are doing 
your part.” 

“ I am trying to do it. I expect I shall make 
mistakes, and I am appalled at the work needing 
to be done, but I will not allow myself to be 
discouraged. If we can keep our hold on the 
twenty- boys who pledged themselves last even- 
ing, our efforts will not have been in vain.” 

“We must keep our hold on them. In one 
sense they belong to us, and I shall not let one 
of them go. The Abrams boys have in them 
the making of men, and they shall not go to 
the bad for want of a friend to be interested in 
what they do. Mrs. Daly has done her part.” 

“And now we will do ours. Varney is espe- 
cially pleased with Hubbard, and predicts great 
things for him, while I believe equally in his 
brothers.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


WINISriE moean’s heaven. 

“ I NEVEK knew before what Heaven is like,” 
said Winnie Moran, the third day of her visit 
to Mrs. Daly. “ It seems like Heaven to be 
here where it’s all so clean, and nobody speaking 
bad words. I never used to think about it till 
Terry told me, and since then, when I’ye been 
so tired and couldn’t do all the work they 
wanted me to, I’ve wished I could go there. 
This is the happiest place I was ever in. It’s 
better than any beautiflest dreams, and I wish 
I could stay always.” 

I am glad you are happy, and I think we 
shall manage to keep you until you are rested. 
But you may be sure, dear, that Heaven is no 
such poor place as this. It is better than any 
words can describe.” 

Do you think I’m sure to get there, Mrs. 
Daly?” 

“ I do think so, Winnie.” 

“And your boys; will they go there too?” 

“ I hope so.” 

(191) 


192 


The Attic Tenant. 


“ They will if they go to the meeting, for 
Terry says that’s where folks start on the way 
to Heaven. He means to go there, and I know 
Stoker Judd will; he is so good He helps 
somebody all the time. I should have been a 
good deal hungrier if he hadn’t sent me things 
to eat. Then there’s father and mother and the 
children. But I can’t think of all I want to go 
to Heaven. I don’t want anybody left out; 
do you, Mrs. Daly % ” 

“ No, Winnie, I don’t. But you better not 
tire yourself with thinking so much.” 

“ How can I help it ? and besides, it don’t 
tire me to think as much as it used to. It’s so 
nice here.” 

After saying this the child was silent, watch- 
ing a butterfly which had found its w\ay to the 
vine-draped windows. At length she asked a 
little anxiously : 

“Would you mind Terry’s coming to see me, 
so he can tell father how well I am ? ” 

“ I should be glad to have him come,” was 
replied. “ He seems like a good boy.” 

“ He has been good to me. Everybody is 
good to me now, but he was the beginning. If 
it hadn’t been for him I shouldn’t know how 
to read.” 

“ I am glad you remember your friends, Win- 

vfiie.” 


Winnie Morans Heaven, 


193 


“ So am I, and I shall always remember yon. 
I shouldn’t wonder if you would be the best 
one of all. But there comes Terry now. I can 
hear him whistle just as he does when he wants 
me to go out on the landing to meet him, be- 
cause he has something for me he don’t want 
anybody else to know about.” 

^‘He needn’t be afraid here. He can come 
right in. I will go out and ask him.” 

The boy, nothing loth, accepted the invita- 
tion cordially given ; and while Mrs. Daly went 
to speak with one of her neighbors, he entered 
the room which Winnie found so pleasant. 

“ I ’most knew you would come to-day,” she 
exclaimed joyfully. “ Have you seen father 
since I came away ? ” 

“ Yes, and he wants to hear from you. I told 
him he should know all about you to-night.” 

“He might come to see me.” 

“ He said he didn’t look fit, ’though this is a 
worse street than ours.” 

“But don’t you see the difference in this 
house ? All the windows have creepers, and a 
good many have flowers besides. Mrs. Daly did 
it, and she says she had only two seeds to start 
with. They were in the bottom of an old trunk, 
and when she planted them she was afraid they 
wouldn’t come up.” 

“That was just the beginning, Winnie, the 


194 


The A ttic Tenant. 


same as our meeting is the beginning of what 
is going to be in the chapel. I’m glad I begun 
at the very beginning, so it won't seem strange 
to me. I go by the chapel every day, and I tell 
you the work is going right along. Mr. Galvin 
is ’most always there, too, and he says our chapel, 
just as though we all owned a share in it.” 
wish father would go to the meeting.” 

‘‘ He will. He is going to-night. Stoker Judd 
asked him, and Stoker Judd is going to do all 
the talking. He knows so many things, he 
keeps us wide awake, wondering what’s coming 
next. I almost think he knows more than Mr. 
Galvin. Don’t the boys here like him ? ” 

“ They like everything at the meeting-room, 
and it makes their granny so happy, she sings 
to herself ’most all the time when she don’t talk, 
’though she sings so soft, I can’t make out the 
words.” 

It was many years since Mrs. Daly had sung 
as she worked, but now her heart so overflowed 
with thankfulness that she must needs give it 
expression. She believed her boys would be 
saved, and she had hope for their father. They 
spent every evening in “the meeting-room,” 
eager to learn, and on their return home, as eager 
to repeat what they had learned. 

“ We won’t always live as we do now, Granny,” 
said Hubbard, as he bounded into the general 


Winnie Morans Heaven. 195 

living-room, after Laving been told by Stoker 
Judd that be could easily fit himself for some 
responsible position where he would receive a 
generous salary. “ I shall earn some money, 
sometime, and then we will see different works 
from what we have now.” 

You earn money every day, my boy.” 

“ I know it, but it don’t amount to much. 
Father spends a good deal of it for ” 

“ Don’t complain of your father, Hubbard. 
We manage to have things comfortable, and we 
are gaining on it too.” 

“ You do the managing. Granny. If it 
wasn’t for you, we should have been in the 
street long ago. We should have gone ragged 
and hungry. I am just beginning to realize 
what you have done for us, and if I live I will 
make a good home for you. I tell you that 
meeting-room is a grand place. I didn’t know 
I could sing, till I went there ; but I can, and 
so can Hunt and Huls. Hunt won’t ever tell 
of it for himself, but Mr. Varney Galvin says he 
has a splendid voice.” 

“ Your grandmother was a good singer.” 

“ I can remember hearing mother sing, once 
in a while, but I guess she didn’t feel like it 
very often. Father was just the same then, he 
is now. I wonder where he is. I suppose, 
’though, it would be easy enough to find him. 


196 


The Attic Tenant. 


He had money in his pocket, to-night, and of 
course he has gone to some saloon. Old Sands 
always knows when he is flush, and is on the 
lookout for him, to get treated. I believe, too, 
he contrives to steal enough to keep him in 
liquor for a day or two longer.” 

“ I wish somebody could bring him in.” 

“ Get father in first, and then we c^n try for 
old Sands. Come, Hunt, let us find father and 
take him home. If we don’t he’ll come in drunk, 
and frighten Winnie half to death.” 

“ She is used to drunken men.” 

“ She won’t be used to them here. I am go- 
ing for father. Come on, both of you.” 

Mr. Abrams was found by his sons in one of 
the worst saloons in the neighborhood ; yet by 
no means so far under the infiuence of liquor as 
his sons had expected to find him. As usual, 
old Sands was with him, urging him to drink, 
and keeping a sharp lookout for the coveted 
money. 

“ Come, father, you have been here long 
enough,” said Hubbard in a tone which so im- 
pressed those who heard it, that involuntarily 
every man turned to gaze at the intruder. 

“Your father is the best judge of that. He 
don’t need to have his boys tell him what to 
do,” responded one with a sneer. “We are all 
able to take care of ourselves yet awhile.” 


Winnie Morans Heaven, 197 

You won’t be if you stay here a great while,” 
replied the boy. 

“ Here is good enough for you,” now retorted 
the proprietor of the saloon. “The trouble 
with you is, you don’t come here often enough 
to know what a good place this is.” 

“ I know how bad it is without coming.” 

“Take a drink and you’ll think better of it.” 

“Never. I am pledged never to taste the 
cursed stuff, and I will keep my pledge. There 
is something better for me in the world than 
drinking poor whiskey out of dirty tumblers.” 

“We’ll see about that. Here, Abrams, give 
your boys a drink all ’round. It does you good, 
and ’twill do them good. If you’ve got any 
control over them, show it now. If you don’t, 
we’ll pour some drams down their throats; stiff 
ones too,” and suiting his actions to his words, 
the bully who made this threat sprang toward 
Hubbard Abrams, who eluded his grasp, and 
stood gazing defiantly at the motley crowd. 

“ Abrams, can’t you say something for your- 
self?’’ asked Sands, by no means pleased at 
the turn of affairs. 

“ Yes, I can,” was replied, after some delay. 
“I’ve been a fool most of my life, and I’ve 
spent my money like a fool. Perhaps I shall 
spend more money the same way, but I sha’n’t 
spend any more here to-night. Another thing ; 


198 The Attic Tenant 

I’d rather see my boys dead than see them 
drinking liquor as I have. Somebody’s given 
them a helping hand, and I’m not brute enough 
to want to drag them down. Come, we are 
ready to go home.” 

There were scowling looks and muttered 
threats, yet no one presumed to oppose their 
leaving the saloon. 

“ It all comes of that cursed Galvin, with his 
meetings and his Sunday-school,” exclaimed the 
man behind the rude bar. “ I wish there was 
some way to stop his work ; but money rules, 
and we poor ones are driven to the wall. What 
right have them Galvins to ruin my busi- 
ness and take the bread out of my children’s 
mouths ! ” 

“They are putting bread into a good many 
children’s mouths, and where it is needed too,” 
responded a man, who until then had taken no 
part in the discussion. “ They have more than 
a meeting and a Sunday-school, and to my mind 
they are doing a good work.” 

“ Then why don’t you turn to and help them ? ” 
was retorted sneeringly. 

“Because I am not worthy; but, please God, 
I will see if they can help such a wretch as 
I am.” 

“ What are we coming to ! ” ejaculated Sands. 
“ I never expected to hear such talk. I’ve heard 


Ivinnie Morans Heaven. 199 

aLout them Galvins, how they spend their 
money, right and left, minding other people’s 
business. The money didn’t cost them any- 
thing. They never earned a dollar of it.” 

They’re all of them civil spoken enough, 
and some way they get on the blind side of 
everybody. Wonder what they do in that hall 
every night ? ” 

“ They talk, and sing, and do sums, and write, 
and tell stories about poor children that have 
grown up to have about all they wanted. Then 
somebody plays on an organ, and they all shake 
hands and have a good time, with not a drop 
of liquor.” 

It promised well for the popularity of the 
meetings in “ Galvin’s Hall ” — as some were be- 
ginning to call the room hired by Stark Gal- 
vin — that they were thus criticised. 

“ Once get your plans advertised and people 
will come to the hall to gratify their curiosity. 
Then you must interest them so they will con- 
tinue to come,” said Stoker Judd, to whom Mr. 
Galvin had appealed for advice. So far as T 
can see, everything is moving on smoothly and 
rapidly. I am surprised that so much could be 
accomplished in so short a time, although T 
know you have been preparing for this work 
ever since you came into possession of your 
uncle’s property. I have watched you closer 


200 


The A ttic Tenant. 


than you think, and I don’t mind telling you 
that I believe in you as a Christian.” 

“ I am more than thankful to hear that, Mr. 
Judd.” 

“ I suppose, too, you might add truthfully : ‘ I 
wish I could say the same of you.’ ” 

“ I wish you were a Christian. I never see 
you without wishing that.” 

“ I half wish so, myself, and should wish so 
altogether, if I had not seen so many hypocrites 
among those professing to be Christians. But 
when Mr. Sawyer told me what you had done 
for Mrs. Butman, it was like taking a stumbling- 
block out of my path.” 

‘‘We felt that Mrs. Butman had a claim upon 
us for the amount we paid her, and I should be 
sorry to believe that my uncle would not have 
honored the claim, had he lived and been aware 
of her situation.” 

To this remark Mr. Judd made no reply. In 
fact, he seemed hardly to have heard the allu- 
sion to Mr. Dabney, or to be conscious of the 
presence of Mr. Dabney’s nephew. 


CHAPTER XXL 


GOOD NEWS. 

Good news for Mrs. MurMand,’’ exclaimed 
Varney Galvin, as he entered the room where 
his sister and cousin were busily at work. “ You 
would never guess what it is ; so I may as well 
tell you. Her husband has written to Mr. Judd 
that he has signed the pledge, and believes that 
with God’s help he can keep it. He hopes, too, 
that he has become a Christian ; and as a proof 
of his sincerity, he has sent his wife two 
dollars.” 

“ It all seems too good to be true,” cried 
Mercy, clapping her hands; while Cousin Janet 
said reverently : 

With God all things are possible.” 

“ Has Mrs. Murkland heard the news ? ” 

No ; she has not. Mr. Judd received the 
letter this morning, and when I saw him he had 
succeeded in reading only a part of it. It was 
directed by some one accustomed to writing; 
but the letter itself was such a wretched scrawl, 
it will take some time to decipher it. Where is 
Florence ? ” 


( 201 ) 


202 


The A ttic TenoMt. 


“ She is spending the day with her mother, 
who is not quite well ; and she asked the priv- 
ilege of going.” 

“ Mrs. Murkland is overworked.” 

‘‘Yes; but she is so thankful for the oppor- 
tunity to work, that she forgets there is a 
limit to her streugth. Then she has so many 
dependent upon her, she needs every cent she 
can earn ; and now that they are not in actual 
danger of starvation, she is anxious to provide 
more generously for them. Besides, Mr. Hiland 
depends upon her to do work no one else will 
do so well, and she is unwilling to disappoint 
him.” 

“ The wonder to me is that she has any 
strength or courage left, after what she has suf- 
fered. It seems to me most women would have 
given up.” 

“ They cannot give up. Cousin Varney. I 
was talking with Mrs. Daly about it, the last 
time I saw her, and she said there were thou- 
sands and thousands of women sufferino^ even 
more than Mrs. Murkland. She has lived where 
she has seen a great deal of drunken poverty. 
I wonder what Mrs. Murkland will say when 
she knows her husband has sent her some 
money.” 

“ She cannot be more surprised than Mr. 
Judd.” 


Good News. 


203 


Surprise but feebly expressed the emotions of 
Mr. Judd, as with much painstaking be read 
tbe strange letter. 

Giles Murkland, reformed ! Giles Murk- 
land, a Christian ! The man whom he had re- 
garded as outside the pale of humanity, having 
no claim to consideration or kindness ! That 
man a Christian, hoping to make some amends 
for past wickedness ! 

When once the letter was made plain to him, 
he read it again and again, until convinced, 
against his will, that some new influence had 
come into the life of the writer. 

“Tell my wife 111 send her more money 
soon as I can. The man that has befriended me 
will direct this, and he says there’s no doubt 
but you’ll get it. I don’t know where I’m 
going, so it won’t be any use writing to me, but 
111 keep on sending money to you for my wife.” 

So closed the letter which had cost its 
writer hours of thought and effort. His early 
education had been so neglected that ordinarily 
he made no attempt at writing beyond signing 
his name. He could work, and work was what 
had been required of him. 

People who knew him wondered at the mar- 
riage which gave him a wife so much his supe- 
rior, while she was so alone in the world that 
her welfare was regarded with-little interest. 


204 


The Attic Tenant. 


Happier now than perhaps she had ever been 
before, she looked forward hopefully to her 
children's future. The wolf no longer stood at 
her door. Florence and Jamie brought her 
their earnings, which added to her own gave 
her the means of living in comparative comfort. 
She was resting in a large rocking-chair, watch- 
ing her daughter move about the room, making 
everything tidy, when Mr. Judd appeared with 
the letter from her husband. 

“ Don’t tell me he is coming back,” she cried 
as soon as his name was mentioned. “ I hoped 
I should never hear of him again. I am afraid 
I hoped he was dead.” 

But he has sent you some money, and 
promises to send more,” said Mr. Judd, inter- 
rupting her. I think you need have no fear 
of his coming back.” 

“We don’t want him to come back, and we 
don’t want any of his money, either,” retorted 
Florence., “ He is just the wickedest of any- 
body, and I don’t suppose I’ll ever be a real 
Christian, because I can’t forgive him. I pray 
every night and morning, but I don’t ever pray 
for him. I can’t. I thought he was gone off 
so far he would be just the same as dead.” 

“ I thought so too, but I expect my plans and 
the Lord’s plans didn’t agree. Anyway, here 
is the letter with the money in it.” 


Good News. 


205 


“ O mother, I wish it hadn’t come,” sobbed 
the child when they were left to themselves. 

Yes, Florence ; but we better read the letter 
and see what he says.” 

“ I don’t care what he says. I can’t care, only 

I wish — I wish It is such a wicked wish I 

won’t speak it ; but don’t use a single cent of 
the money, mother. I would rather go hungry 
and cold. Jamie would too, and so would the 
other children if they were old enough to 
know. Oh, dear ! there is always trouble com- 
ing when we feel the best.” 

“ I suppose we ought to forgive your father, 
Florence. The Bible says we must love our 
enemies and pray for them who despitefully 
use us.” 

“ I know it does, but such a wicked man as 
father don’t deserve to be loved. I don’t be- 
lieve it means anybody as bad as he is.” 

“ I am afraid it does, Florence ; but we won’t 
talk about it any more now.” 

“ No, mother, let us forget it. I thought I 
should have a real good time here at home to- 
day, and I don’t want to have it spoiled.” 

It was the strangest thing ; as Stoker Judd 
said to himself, and afterward to Stark Galvin. 

“I told your brother of it the first thing, 
but some way it impresses me more and 
more. How anybody could ever find the 


2 o 6 The Attic Tenant, 

heart of such a wretch is more than I can un- 
derstand.” 

“ Do you think him the worst man you have 
ever known \ ” was asked in reply to the above 
remark. 

“ No, I do not,” answered Mr. Judd, after a 
moment’s thought. “He was to the last de- 
gree brutal and cruel, but he made no preten- 
sions to being anything better. I have no 
doubt there are worse men in this very city ; 
men, too, living in good style, and moving in 
what is called good society. So far as drinking 
liquor is concerned, there are club men who in- 
dulge to an extent of which Murkland was ut- 
terly incapable. The truth is that he is quickly 
intoxicated, when he becomes quarrelsome and 
iigiy- 

“ Men who can afford to drink costly liquors 
are careful not to make a public exposure of 
themselves when intoxicated, and if abusive in 
their homes, their families are too proud to 
complain. They can seclude themselves for a 
day or a week, as the case may be, and then go 
out without fear of arrest or disgrace. 

“I tell you, Mr. Galvin, things are not al- 
ways called by their right names. If they were, 
people would be appalled at the revelations 
thus made.” 

“I have no doubt of it, Mr. Judd.” 


Good News. 


207 


“Another thing, Mr. Galvin; the poorest 
people are not alw^ays those who suffer most 
from this curse of intemperance. Of course, they 
suffer for the want of food and clothing and 
comfortable shelter, but there are sufferings, 
compared with which these are mere discom- 
forts. 

“ If money could purchase immunity from 
the temptations which drag men, young and 
old, down to perdition, thousands and thou- 
sands of women would gladly pay the price, 
even if in so doing they condemned themselves 
to poverty. 

“Fathers would ransom their sons at any 
cost ; their daughters, too ; for unfortunately 
drunkenness is not confined exclusively to our 
sex. The worst does not appear on the sur- 
face. I beg your pardon for tiring you with 
my prosing,” added the speaker. “I have 
thought much and said little for several years ; 
but since I began talking in your hall, the habit 
has grown upon me. Besides, my attention has 
been especially called to this form of vice, out- 
side of anything connected with your work.” 

“ Mr. Galvin, can you tell me who we have 
in the basement ? ” asked Mr. Sawyer, not long 
after this conversation had taken place. 

“ I know of no one being there except Mr. 
Judd,” was replied. 


2o8 


The Attic Tenant, 


‘‘But who is Mr. Judd? He certainly does 
not appear like the man who has been our 
stoker so many years. He appears to me like 
a man who has just regained his senses after a 
long season of insensibility. I should not won- 
der now at anything he might prove to know. 

“When he applied for work here he didn’t 
look as you would expect a man used to hard 
work to look. I noticed that at the time, and 
he has been a mystery to me ever since then. 
He is a mystery still, but I am sure of one 
thing; he knows too much to be working in a 
cellar and living in a garret.” 

“ That is certain, Mr. Sawyer, and I wish his 
surroundings were different ; but I should not 
presume to express that wish in his presence. 
He is doing a grand work with the boys who 
come to our hall. Hubbard Abrams, for one, re- 
gards him with profound admiration.” 

“ I have observed that, and, Mr. Galvin, it 
will be the making of the boy. Mr. Judd sets 
before them a high standard of morality.” 

“ I believe he will some time set before them 
a high standard of Christian living. I am look- 
ing for him to be one of our best helpers in 
chapel work.” 

“ You have a large class in training for chapel 
work, Mr. Galvin. That chapel is already ex- 
erting a strong influence. It will prove the 


Good News, 


209 


best investment ever made in this part of the 
city. You will be a richer family, notwith- 
standing its cost. It will give a new character 
to the neighborhood. Real estate will go up. 
In five years you can sell the land back of Dab- 
ney Street at your own price, when six months 
ago it had only a nominal value. 

“Then in time the chapel will become self- 
supporting, so that you will gain financially by 
the outlay you are making.” 

“It was not intended as a financial venture. 
All will be free to share in the benefits.” 

“People value most what costs them some- 
thing. At first you will probabl)^- be obliged 
to pay most of the bills, but not many about 
here will be willing to accept everything as a 
charity. I think you will find they have too 
much self-respect for that. You are teaching 
them, too, to depend upon themselves. You 
will have a congregation ready for your chapel.” 

“We have a family, too, ready for the par- 
sonage. Mr. Sinclair has decided to cast in his 
lot with us. The parsonage was an after 
thought, but we are pushing it as fast as possi- 
ble.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 


MKS. DALY’s school. 

“Something must be done to bead off that 
concern across the way.” 

The keeper of the saloon opposite Galvin’s 
Hall had expressed this sentiment on various 
occasions, yet all the same the hall was becom- 
ing more and more a popular place of resort 
for those it was especially intended to benefit. 

As the season advanced, the cooler evenings 
made the light and warmth doubly grateful, to 
men and boys whose cheerless homes sent them 
to seek comfort elsewhere. The very freedom 
allowed there was in itself an attraction. The 
“talks” upon subjects sure to interest were so 
short, that no one wearied of them. The black- 
board exercises, too, were short. The questions 
asked were sharp, commanding instant atten- 
tion, and eliciting quick replies. 

If the majority voted for a half-hour’s read- 
ing or singing, this vote was decisive. If any 
one wished for assistance, it was given promptly. 
All felt some degree of responsibility ; since the 
( 210 ) 


21 I 


Mrs, Daly s School. 

needs of all were considered, and each was ex- 
pected to help his neighbor whenever this was 
practicable. 

Bring in others to share in your privileges, 
and above all be sure to recruit as many as 
possible from the enemy’s forces,” said Mr. 
Judd. 

When the experience of Webster Baker and 
Alvah Jones was related to him, he did not 
hesitate to assert that their experience was like 
that of hundreds of other young men in every 
large city. 

“ I wish we could bring them all in,” re- 
sponded Stark Galvin. It is little we can do, 
compared with what needs to be done. I 
should be discouraged if I did not remember 
that every one really influenced for good will 
influence others, so that the good accomplished 
may be beyond computation.” 

‘‘You are right there, Mr. Galvin, and if all 
our workers were as enthusiastic as Mrs. Daly, 
we could make a clean sweep of the saloons in 
this part of the city. Just now I am studying 
Mace. I pass his place as often as I can, and I 
have managed several times to get a square look 
at his face. 

“ He puts on a bold front and is trying for a 
rushing business; but if I am not mistaken, he 
has some misgivings. I believe there is some- 


212 


The A ttic Tenant. 


body behind pushing him on. Somebody, 
whose hand is kept well out of sight, furnishes 
the money to run that establishment ; and that 
somebody is likely to take the lion’s share of 
the profits.” 

“I had never thought of that, Mr. Judd; 
which proves, I suppose, that 1 have much to 
learn of the ways of the world. I feel my igno- 
rance constantly.” 

“ That you are ignorant of the world of liquor- 
selling and liquor-drinking is to your credit; 
although to fight them intelligently, one 
must understand their methods. Unfortunate- 
ly, many of these can be learned only behind 
the scenes, and — thank God — you have not 
been there. I have; not, however, as a liquor- 
seller. I never went so low as that, and never, 
in all my life, did I urge another to drink with 
me. If a careless invitation was declined, that 
was sufiicient. I always hated the whole thing. 
I hate it no more intensely now than I always 
have done. 

But to return to Mace. I shall keep my eye 
on him, and it will go hard with me, but I will 
win him to our side.” 

“ Have you ever spoken to him ? ” asked 
Stark Galvin, who regarded his companion 
with ever-increasing interest. 

“I have spoken to him twice; yesterday 


213 


Mrs. Daly's School. 

morning, and this morning. I was out early 
for a walk, and caught him as he was taking 
down his shutters. I tried, to draw him into 
conversation, but he was on his guard; al- 
though he relaxed a little this morning. He 
is slightly lame ; one foot dragging a little, so 
that walking seemed an efibrt.” 

“ Do you know if he has a family % ” 

‘^He is unmarried, but Hubbard Abrams 
thinks he has some one dependent upon him. 
am anxious to find out who that is. I don’t 
l^'^know how I shall accomplish it, but there will 
be a way. I have enlisted Hubbard Abrams 
for the campaign, and he is a host in himself ; 
a bright, ambitious boy who is bound to go 
ahead and take others with him.” 

“ He is all that, Mr. Judd. He told Varney 
that he wishes to study civil engineering.” 

“ He does, and he will commence as soon as 
he is through with his arithmetic.” 

“ Have you arranged for a teacher ? ” 

“ I am to be his teacher, Mr. Galvin. I know 
enough to teach him for the present. It is 
wonderful what that boy is, considering how 
he has lived. Mrs. Daly is a remarkable wom- 
an, and yet the boys say she has always been 
poor; living not much better than she does 
now, and sometimes not so well. Her educa- 
tion, too, must be very limited. She had only 


214 


The Attic Tenant, 


tLree books — tbe Bible, a bymn-book, and an 
old copy of ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ Hubbard says 
he has read until he knows most of it by heart. 
How she managed to hold the boys as she has 
is a wonder to me.” 

“She told Cousin Janet she had always 
prayed for them, that they might be kept from 
the evil of the world. She knew their danger, 
and it is really pathetic to hear of her personal 
sacrifices, that she might give them some little 
treat to make their home more pleasant. Hub- 
bard is sure no other woman ever provided so 
good food at so small an expense. She must 
be a great economist, and for that reason she is 
just the one to teach the poor women about her 
how to make the most of what they have.” 

“ Her cooking and sewing schools are becom- 
ing popular.” 

“ They are, and Mercy says she will soon need 
an assistant, although I doubt if one could be 
found who would be acceptable. Her great 
forte is in cooking the cheapest of meats in 
such a way as to make them not only palatable, 
but decidedly appetizing. Now that the women 
about her are learning her ways, the markets 
on our side are pretty thoroughly cleared of 
bones and scraps of meat.” 

“Grood cookery is w^hat the poor need to 
learn. It is easy to tell how to live well on one 


Afrs, Dalys School, 215 

or two thousand dollars a year, Lut that does 
not help a very large majority of people in our 
country. Even five hundred a year does not 
hit their cases. How to live on a dollar a day 
is the problem to be solved ; and failing in this, 
there is squalor and poverty.” 

“A family can live on that, Mr. Judd, with- 
out suffering for any of the necessaries of life. 
It is often done, too, with children educated 
and brought up to become useful members of 
society. Mrs. Daly insists upon that in her talks 
to the women who come to her, and she just 
inspires them with a determination to do their 
best. She has new scholars, too, every week; 
some nearly as old as she is.” 

This was the charm of her work — the sight 
of new faces and the interest in new lives. The 
discouraged faces brightened, and the tired 
hands moved more swdftly, as she told how the 
plainest homes might be made pleasant and 
even beautiful. She preached the gospel of 
cleanliness on all occasions; herself and her 
room serving as object-lessons not to be misun- 
derstood. At times her accommodations were 
taxed to the utmost ; some even sitting on the 
floor to fit a patch or darn a rent. 

“ What shall we do when it comes winter ? ” 
asked one, as a cold gloomy day reminded them 
that winter was at hand. “ I am just beginning 


2 i 6 The Attic Tenant, 

to learn what I ought to have known before 1 
was married, and I must keep on. My husband 
says I improve every day, and now, since we 
have papers to read and a good light, he don’t 
hardly ever go out after supper. 

I don’t believe he ever would, if I had made 
things pleasant for him at home. 1 didn’t like 
to stay at home any better than he did ; so I 
gossipped with the neighbors and let things go 
to waste. We didn’t have a good wholesome 
meal, clear through, once a w^eek, and it was all 
my fault. There are lots of other w^omen, too, 
living just as I did, and after a while their 
husbands will get to be drunkards; and their 
children, if they have any, will be ragged and 
dirty. 

“ There, Mrs. Daly, please see if these button- 
holes are decent. It seems as though I never 
should learn to make good button-holes; but I 
can make good bread and good doughnuts. I 
haven’t wasted a piece of bread as big as my 
hand since the first day I came here.” 

“ I am glad to hear that,” replied Mrs. Daly 
heartily. knew you could do well if you 
would only try.” 

“ 1 have tried just as hard as I could, and 
now I keep working at home, just to see what 
I can do.” 

The speaker was one who in polite circles 


217 


Mrs. Dalys School. 

would be called irrepressible. On tbe occasion 
of her visit to Mrs. Daly’s room, she had said 
frankly that she knew no more than a child 
how to cook, sew, or keep a house in order. 

“ I got married without thinking what was 
to come in the way of work or care, and when 
things went wrong, I blamed my husband. He 
was good-natured and jolly, and made good 
wages ; and if I had done my part, we should 
have got along all right ; but lately he spends 
so much for liquor, it takes most all he earns. 
We had a nice snug tenement when we were 
married, but now we live in two dark, dirty 
rooms, that ain’t fit for anybody decent to go 
into. 

“There, now, I’ve told my story, just as it 
is, and if there’s a chance for me to have things 
any better, I thought you’d be the one to help 
me,” she added after this outburst. 

“Yes, dear, I am glad you came to me,” re- 
sponded the woman who had listened attentive- 
ly to the young wife’s complaint. “You can 
have clean rooms, no matter how poor you are, 
and you can buy the material for good meals 
with very little money. What did you do be- 
fore you were married ? ” 

“ 1 worked in a factory, and I knew how to 
do my work. I have wished a thousand times 
I had stayed there.” 


2I8 


The Attic Tenant, 


“You won’t wisli so, dear, when you have a 
happy home with your husband. Of course 
X^ou love him. I can’t think of a girl marrying" 
unless she loves her husband. She may be dis- 
appointed in him, but there must always be the 
old love to fall back on and help smooth things 
out when they don’t go to her mind.” 

“ I was all carried away with Sumner Lane, 
and I thought I was the luckiest girl in the 
world to get such a smart, good-looking man 
for a husband. But he wasn’t a drunkard then.” 

“Don’t you think he loved you, dear?” 

“ I know he did. I didn’t look then as I do now. 
I put on the dresses he liked best, when he was 
coming to see me, and he said I was the prettiest 
girl in the factory. He never praises me now.” 

Mrs. Lane had heard of the classes which met 
in the “old shed room,” and decided to apply 
there for instruction. She came with a full 
heart, eager for advice, and ready to be gov- 
erned by it. She said nothing of this to her 
husband, so that it was a great surprise when 
windows were washed, floors scrubbed, and the 
table spread with a clean, white cloth. Since 
then there had been a general improvement, 
with the result reported. 

Mrs. Daly was an humble worker, but judged 
by the highest standards, may not such as she 
be entitled to the brightest crowns ? 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


POOR MOLLY. 

The night was cold, yet the windows of the 
garret were wide open, while a man stretched 
upon a miserable cot gasped for breath, as the 
death-damp gathered on his brow. There was 
a woman, pale and worn, shivering in the dimly 
lighted room, and listening eagerly to catch 
every whisper which fell from her companion’s 
lips. 

“ Did you send, as I told you ? ” he asked at 
length. 

“ Yes,” she replied. “ I sent as soon as I could 
find Troll. He was out, and I waited for him.” 

“ I told you not to wait. Why didn’t you 
send Troll’s wife ? ” 

“She wouldn’t go, and I was afraid to ask 
anybody else. You said there wasn’t anybody 
else you could trust Don’t be hard on me, 
George. I tried to do right. I have always 
done all I could for you.” 

“ Well, don’t whimper over it. When I get 
out again you can take care of yourself. You’ve 

(2ig) 


220 


The Attic Tenant. 


helped me sometimes, but a woman drags a man 
down anyway, and I’ll look out for myself the 
rest of the time. I wish I never’d seen you, and 
you can wish the same of me ” 

“ Where shall I go when you leave me ? ” 
sobbed the woman, clutching at her throat as 
if in danger of suffocation. 

“ Go back where you came from.” 

“ But I can’t do that. I can’t look anybody 
in the face. You told me I was your wife.” 

And then I told you the truth. ’Twas time 
you knew it.” 

Here the speaker paused. The effort he had 
made quite exhausted him, and possibly some 
feeling of pity for the woman he had so cruelly 
wronged arrested the words upon his lips. 

Give me brandy,” he whispered, after a 
short rest. 

There is none.” 

“Then get some.” 

“ There is no money.” 

“ Steal it. Get it in some way. I will have 
it.” And the dying man — for dying he was, 
though he professed to disbelieve it — made 
a vain attempt to rise from his cot. “ Get it, 
I tell you,” he muttered half inaudibly. 

At that moment there was a knock on the 
door, and when opened, he who sought admis- 
sion, asked: 


221 


Poor Molly. 


“ Is Sam Ryder here ? ” 

“The same old fellow, laid up for repairs,” 
was replied in a hoarse whisper. “ Come in. I 
wanted to see you. Go outside, Moll. I don’t 
want any listeners ’round. But for God’s sake, 
Judd, give her money to buy some brandy for 
me and some bread for herself. I am dying for 
the want of brandy, and she is starving.” 

“ Don’t beg for me,” said the woman. “ I am 
ready to starve. I have nothing to live for. 
Don’t send me for brandy. I can’t go.” 

“ You’ll go if I send you.” 

“No, George Lambert. I will take care of 
you while my strength lasts, but I’ll go for no 
more brandy. I don’t know who you are, sir, 
nor what you know about the man lying there 
on the bed,” she added, turning to the visitor. 

“ I know this man better than I wish I did,” 
was replied. 

“ So do I, but until this morning I believed 
I was his wife. I want you to know that, so 
not to think me worse than I am. I never 
would have lived with him if I hadn’t thought 
I was his wife.” 

Having said this, the woman left the room 
and closed the door behind her. 

“Women are fools!” muttered the occupant 
of the cot. 

“ Is she your wife ? ” was asked in response. 



222 


The Attic Tenant 


No ; I never tied myself to but one woman, 
and that made me trouble enough,” 

“ Silence, Sam Kyder. No more of that, or I 
will leave you to die like a dog. Why, man, 
you are dying,” continued the visitor, coming 
nearer. You have but a few hours to live.” 

^‘It is a lie. Call a doctor; one you can 
trust to tell no tales. Don’t be hard on me, 
Judd. They say you’ve turned pious and 
preach; so you ought to forgive me. That’s 
what the prayer says.” 

All this was said brokenly ; the dying man’s 
strong will asserting itself even in his extrem- 
ity, yet suffering a terrible defeat. 

“ Get me some brandy, and no matter about 
the forgiveness,” he gasped. ‘^I’ve been hiding 
like a rat in a hole for what I never did. 
They’ll swear it on me, but I’ll be even with 
them yet. Just let me get on my feet again 

and For God’s sake, Judd, get me some 

brandy, and I’ll do as you say the rest of ray 
life. Hain’t had a square meal for so long I 
can’t remember, nor Moll either. She must be 
pretty near starved.” 

“ I will see that she does not starve.” 

That’s right, Judd. I don’t want her to 
starve. She saved me a good many times, but 
she isn’t any good to me now, so I must get rid 
of her. I want to turn over a new leaf, so I 


223 


Poor Molly, 

told her how things are between us. I didn’t 
think she would take it so hard, but she would 
have to know sometime.” 

“ Stop that, Sam Kyder. I want to hear no 
more of your wickedness. Why did you send 
for me ? ” 

“ I wanted to see you. I want to see Allan. 
I know where he is, and it ain’t right he should 
live on the best of everything while I hide in a 
garret. I have some claim on him.” 

“ You forfeited that claim before he was born, 
xnd a thousand times since.” 

When I get out of this we will see about it. 
I can prove my claim.” 

You will have no opportunity. You will 
lever leave this room until you are carried 
DUt.” 

“ You don’t mean I am going to die, Judd. 
You can’t mean that. Get a doctor. I can’t 
die. The doctor won’t know who I am. If he 
does, no matter. I can’t die.” 

A physician was summoned, who, after asking 
a few questions and counting the fast-failing 
pulse, said : 

“There is no hope. A stimulant may pro- 
long life for a few hours. That is all that can 
be done.” 

“ Then do that,” said the dying man hoarsely; 
his face taking on a look of unutterable wretch- 


224 Attic Tenant 

edness. “ Give me brandy. I can’t die. I can’t 
die.” 

The woman who had been waiting outside 
resumed her watch, only to be roughly ordered 
away when the brandy was brought. This 
left together the two between whom existed a 
strange bond of sympathy ; despite the aver- 
sion each felt for the other. 

“ What have you to say to me, Sam Eyder ? ” 
asked Lawrence Judd. This will be our last 
interview. I will not leave you while you live, 
but that will not be long.” 

“ Save me. Lorry. Don’t let me die. I wish 
I’d done different by you. Save me, and I’ll 
make up for it all I can.” 

The old-time name touched a tender chord 
in the heart of the man to whom this appeal 
was made, and he answered kindly : 

“ I would save you if I could, but I have not 
the power.” 

“ It can’t be this is the end of it all. Lorry. I 
don’t believe it. I won’t believe it. I want to 
live. I’m not the worst man in the world. 
There’s been somebody else at the bottom of 
things. I wish I hadn’t come between you 
and ” 

“ Don’t speak that name. Tell me one thing. 
Did you ever care for her ? ” 

“I cared for her money. That was all. I 


225 


Poor Molly, 

as'ked ter to marry me, so I could get ter 
money, but ste refused me. Ste loved you, 
and she loves you now. You are a good man. 
Lorry. I wust I was, but it is too late, too late. 
Give me more brandy. It gives me new life. 

“ Now I am better. Why can’t I live % I al- 
ways wanted money and here I am. Oh ! what 
a life, and I can’t make it any better. Don’t 
let Allan hate me. Don’t tell him what I’ve 
been. You tad tis name changed, and you 
gave him a good name.” 

The unhappy man was forced to be silent. 
He could not express the thoughts wtich 
crowded upon tim. Despite the brandy, free^ 
ly administered, his strength was fast ebbing. 

“ Poor Molly ! ” te whispered. “ Help her a 
little if you can. She was a good girl, but she 
believed me, and I deceived her. She thought 
she was my wife.” 

Poor woman ! It was as te said. She had 
been cruelly deceived ; but through it all, she 
believed the man, whose fortunes she had 
shared, to be her husband. Deserted by him 
for months together, she lived on, as best she 
could, waiting for his return ; this return often 
bringing her heavier burdens and darker days. 

She had been cold and hungry and poorly 
clad ; she had suffered from abuse, such as few 
women ev^er endure ; but the climax of her suf- 


226 


The Attic Tenant. 


feriDg was reached, that morning, when told 
that the marriage ceremony which had seemed, 
to her a solemn reality was only a cruel farce. 

She was ready to die, and it was only after 
much persuasion that she could be induced to 
go to a neighbor’s room, where she was provided 
with food. The end came soon. The man she 
had known as George Lambert was dead, and 
whatever remained to her of life was beyond his 
control. She could not mourn for him as she 
would have done under other circumstances, 
yet it was impossible for her to quite forget 
the days when he had seemed the realization of 
her girlhood’s dream. 

There was no need of delay, and the next 
day there was buried from sight a gambler and 
drunkard, whose real name and character were 
known only to the man who, standing by his 
open grave, found it hard to forgive the wrongs 
he had committed. Mr. Sinclair, who had re- 
turned to the city, offered a prayer, thus giving 
him Christian burial. 

Then Lawrence Judd went back to the tene- 
ment-house to give assistance to “ Molly,” who 
wished to be addre^ed by no other name. He 
had told enough of her story to enlist the sym- 
pathy of Mrs. Daly, who superintended the 
furnishing of a room for her, and promised that 
she should not want for friends. 


227 


Poor Molly. 

A few weeks after this, search was made for 
Lambert, who had figured in so many disrep- 
utable transactions, but he was not to be 
found. A reward was offered for his appre- 
hension by one who claimed to have been 
swindled out of a large sum of money by him. 

An officer who had some , acquaintance with 
Mr. Judd went, one day, into the basement 
where he was at work, and said : 

“ I have been told that you would probably 
know the whereabouts of a gambler, whose 
aliases and disguises have so far baffled pur- 
suit. Last week we thought we were on his 
track, but he slipped through our fingers. Do 
you know George Lambert?” 

“ I know no one by that name.” 

“ Do you know a man who answers to that 
name ; an elderly man who has run the gauntlet 
of crime, and so far cheated the prison or gal- 
lows ? ” 

“ I knew a man who sometimes called him- 
self George Lambert ; but he had no right to 
the name, and he has now gone beyond you.” 

Where is he ? ” 

“ Dead.” 

Can you bring proof of his death ? ” 

“ I can, if proof is demanded by one having a 
right to make the demand.” 

While these questions were asked and an- 


228 


The Attic Tenant, 


swered, the questioner had not for a moment 
allowed his gaze to wander from the face of his 
companion. 

Then we are on the wrong track,” said the 
officer. There is another in the city who 
leaves the same trail behind him, and we are 
bound to bring him to justice.” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


ONE OF THE HELPEES. 

Me. Judd.” 

That is my name.” 

Mine is Dockam. I have seen you often 
on the street, ’though I am a stranger to you.” 

“ I have seen you before, Mr. Dockam. It 
does not follow, because we have never spoken, 
that you are a stranger to me. Most men in 
this vicinity know something of you. Your 
saloon has been a notorious place for years.” 

The man to whom this was said winced under 
the sweeping accusation, yet presently admitted 
that it was true. 

“ It has been a bad place, and I am ashamed 
to look a decent man in the face ; but I am out 
of the business. Dockam’s is closed.” 

I heard the doors had been closed since the 
last outrage.” 

“They will never be opened again by me, 
and I wish I had never seen the infernal place.” 

“ Then do you admit that an infernal busi- 
ness was done there ? ” 


(229) 


230 


The Attic Tenant. 


“I do ; ’though I don’t want to talk much 
about it. But I suppose you know more about 
it tkan some folks do. You knew George 
Lambert.” 

“ I knew a man who called himself George 
Lambert.” 

“ Do you know the woman he called his 
wife? ” 

“ I have seen her three times.” 

“ Do you know where she is ? ” 

“ She is with friends.” 

“Is the man I knew as George Lambert 
dead % ” 

“ He is dead. He died in a garret, wretched 
and starving.” 

“ I don’t say he didn’t deserve to die so, Mr. 
Judd, but somebody ought to have starved with 
him. I don’t mean the woman that thought 
she was his wife. He wasn’t guilty of the 
crime he was accused of last, and three weeks 
ago a reward was offered for his apprehension, 
when ” 

“ He was dead more than a month ago.” 

“ I didn’t know he was dead, but I knew he 
wasn’t the man they wanted. Lambert grew 
shaky the last of his being ’round. He used to 
be bold as a lion, but some thought there was 
a hook on him somewhere that took the pluck 
out of him.” 


231 


One of the Helpers. 

“ Perhaps there was. But you said he wasn’t 
guilty of a crime laid to his charge before he 
died. Then why was he in hiding ? ” 

“ Because, if he stood trial, some other things 
would be brought to light a good many didn’t 
want to have known. You see, I am giving 
myself away to you, Mr. Judd. My boy has 
heard you talk in the hall, and I don’t think a 
man who talks as he says you do, would betray 
anybody that trusted you. I heard Lambert 
was dead, but I wasn’t sure of it. I thought 
he might be playing a game.” 

“ He is dead. I saw him buried.” 

“ He was a bad man, but there are others 
w^orse; men living in fine houses and wearing 
fine broadcloth. I could tell what would as- 
tonish people, and I wish I dared to do it.” 

“Would it help anybody, Mr. Dockam ?” 

“ It might, and it might send me to prison. 
When a man who has been where I have be- 
gins on a story, there is no telling where he’ll 
fetch up.” 

“That is a self-evident fact,” answered Mr. 
Judd, looking at his visitor suspiciously. 

“You don’t trust me, and I don’t wonder,” 
said the man. “I hadn’t any right to expect 
you would. But I want to know more about 
Lambert. There was money enough coming to 
him to have made him comfortable for a while, 


232 The Attic Tenant, 

and now lie is dead, the woman that lived with 
him ought to have it.’^ 

“ Was she his wife % ” 

“I don’t believe she was. He deceived her 
with a mock marriage. It is a way such men 
have of doing. She is as good as she could be, 
living with him. He treated her like a brute. 
She is well rid of him, and I have a hundred 
dollars that she has a better right to than any- 
body else I know of Will you take it and 
give me a receipt for it ? ” 

She might refuse it.” 

“ Then I don’t know who would have it. I 
frightened it out of an old fellow who ought to 
have forked over ten times as much. He passes 
for a respectable man and lives in style, but if 
he had his deserts he would be behind the bars. 
When Bangs went up he ought to have gone 
too. The old man is at the bottom of a good 
deal of wickedness. He will miss Lambert, 
’though he has a younger and smarter man in 
training.” 

“ In training for what, Hockam ? ” 

“ Training for a gambler, but the fellow 
don’t know it. It is a pity, too, for there is a 
good deal expected of him, and he ought to 
have a good standing in the world. He don’t 
know what it all means, but I can see through 
it. The man that hires him as clerk don’t take 


233 


One of the Helpers. 

a young man in hand as he has that one, unless 
he has an axe to grind. I wish you would save 
him.” 

“ What is his name ? ” 

“ Ashton Randlett. He comes of good stock, 
and so far he is all right ; but unless something 
is done, in three months he will be bound hand 
and foot. The old man is smooth as oil till he 
gets a man fairly in his power, and then he 
puts on the screws.” 

“Do you speak from experience, Mr. Dock- 
am ? ” 

“ I speak what I know, and I wish you would 
save Randlett. Now the new chapel is to be 
opened I thought perhaps you could manage it. 
They say Mr. Sinclair has the faculty to draw 
young men around him.” 

“ I think he has. Come with Randlett your- 
self to the chapel.” 

“ Why, Mr. Judd, he wouldn’t be seen with 
anybody like me. I am a marked man. Every- 
thing is laid to Dockam, ’though I never owned 
a dollar in that saloon. I had a share in the 
profits, but somebody else got the largest share. 
There were heavy bills to pay, too, that took 
oft* the profits. Anyway, I have got through 
with it.” 

“ What do you propose to do now ? ” 

“ Earn an honest living if I can. I want to 


234 


The Attic Tenant 


do something that won’t make my children 
ashamed to own me as their father. Mr. Galvin 
has upset a good many plans in this part of the 
city. I wonder if he knows that before Mr. 
Dabney died there v/as talk in some quarters 
of forming a company to build a brewery if 
they could buy the land they wanted. They 
thought the lot east of the chapel would be a 
good place for a big brewery. I don’t know as 
they ever said anything to Mr. Dabney about 
it, and now they won’t think of such a thing. 
Mr. Galvin has too sharp an eye for business to 
sell land without knowing what it’s going to be 
used for ; and besides, a brewery and a chapel 
wouldn’t work well together, for all what peo- 
ple say about beer helping temperance. 

“It don’t do any such thing. Anybody who 
knows about it, knows better than that. Be- 
ginning with beer is pretty sure to end with 
whiskey. Boys mostly start with beer in these 
days. Some begin with wine, but it takes a 
good while for them to come down to common 
saloons. They take their drinks where there is 
more style.” 

“Mr. Dockam, what was your real object in 
coming here this morning?” asked Mr. Judd 
abruptly. 

“I told you what I came for,” was replied 
with some hesitation. “I wanted to know 


One of the Helpers, 235 

about Lambert and tbe woman that lived with 
him.” 

Yes, I understand all that. You have asked 
me some questions and given me some informa- 
tion, but that is not all you had in mind when 
you came here.” 

“ Perhaps I had no right to come, but I have 
heard of your helping some who were down in 
the world ; and to tell the whole truth, I hoped 
I should have courage to ask you to help me 
find some honest work. I know as well as you 
do, that I haven’t any claim on you, but I 
thought there was just a chance for me. I used 
to be a carpenter, but I don’t suppose anybody 
will hire me unless I can get some influence on 
my side somewhere. I thought from what my 
boy said, that you was the man for me to come 
to. You belong to the Helping Society, don’t 
you? ” 

“ I am the president of that society, and I 
am ready to help you, if you are ready to help 
yourself in an honest way. Mr. Galvin is a 
helper, too, and he is the man for you to ask 
for work. There is plenty to be done about 
the chapel and parsonage.” 

I couldn’t go to Mr. Galvin. You have 
lived longer than he has, and you might have 
more charity for me.” 

“ How came you to go into that saloon ? ” 


The A ttic Tenant. 


236 

now asked Mr. Judd, without replying to these 
last remarks of his coinpanion. 

I got into a tight place and didn’t see any 
other way out.” 

“ What do you mean by that ? If I am to 
help you, I must know the whole story, so that 
I may be prepared for whatever comes.” 

Mr. Dockam looked steadily at the man who 
thus demanded to know the secrets of his past 
life; and for a moment he seemed to hesitate 
between the two alternatives presented to him. 
He could go out again into the world, ignoring 
all moral responsibility, and plunging deeper 
into the vortex which had already well-nigh 
engulfed him, or he could trust his future to the 
man before him. 

“ Mr. Judd, are you a Christian ; a real Chris- 
tian, who puts God and duty before everything 
else ? ” 

It was now Mr. Judd who was embarrassed, 
and for want of a better reply to this unex- 
pected question, he asked: 

“ What has that to do with the matter under 
consideration ? ” 

“ Everything, so far as I am concerned,” was 
answered. I didn’t use to think enough about 
it to hardly know what Christian meant; but 
since my boy began to go to Mr. Galvin’s meet- 
ing, I’ve changed. I can’t understand it, but I 


One of the Helpers, 237 

feel as though a Christian could be trusted any- 
where. 

t ‘‘Mr. Judd, if you knew how I lived till 
after I was ten years old, you wouldn’t wonder 
at anything I have done since. I would a 
thousand times rather see my children dead, 
than have them go through what 1 have.” 

“ Then you must see that they are kept under 
good influences. I hope they have a good 
mother.” 

“ Their mother was always good enough for me, 
but she is changed since she began going to the 
meetings. She has had a hard time with me, and 
things haven’t always gone as they ought to ; but 
there’s an old lady goes to the meeting that’s been 
straightening out things for a good many women.” 

“Is it Mrs. Daly?” 

“That is her name, and she must be a Chris- 
tian.” 

“ There can be no doubt of that. Nothing 
but trust in God could have made her so brave 
and patient.” 

“And loving, Mr. Judd. That is the secret 
of what she does. If I had known a woman 
like her, when I was a boy, it would have been 
the saving of me.” 

“ It must have made a difference with you. 
But you have not answered my question ; why 
you went into the saloon ? ” 


238 


The Attic Tenant, 


“ It began by roy getting drunk and spoiling 
a nice piece of work tbat I could not pay for, 
and as often as I began to see my way out be 
managed to get me deeper in debt to bim. At 
last be accused me of stealing from bim, and 
circumstances were so much against me, it w > ^ 
no use for me to deny it.’’ 

‘‘ Did you steal from bim ? ” 

“No; unless I did it when I was under tbe 
influence of liquor. I bad nothing to show for 
it, and I never believed be lost wbat be pre- 
tended to. It is an easy thing to drug a man’s 
liquor and then lead him straight to destruc- 
tion.” 

“Drug him, and then leave bim in a dark 
alley to die ! ” 

“ I suppose I know wbat you mean by tbat, 
Mr. Judd. I don’t think Lambert meant to go 
quite so far, but be was pushed for money and 
thought there was more to be made out of it 
than it proved. It wasn’t worth taking such a 
risk. I run a risk every minute, but I am will- 
ing to take it for tbe sake of wbat I hope to 
gain. The old story of stealing may be brought 
up against me.” 

“ You have not been a hard drinker while 
running a saloon.” 

“I couldn’t be. It wouldn’t do. I had to 
keep my head clear, so to have my wits about 


239 


One of the Helpers. 

me, and now — God helping me — I will never 
sell or drink another drop of liquor so long as 
I live.” 

“Keep to that, and you will come out all 
right. We will try to find a way to save 
Randlett, and if you will come here to-morrow 
morning, I will tell you what success I have 
in getting work for you. I make no preten- 
sions to being a Christian, but I am ready to 
give a helping hand to any one who needs it.” 

“I thank you for your kindness, Mr. Judd. 
There are so many ready to drag a man down, 
and so few willing to help him up, that with 
all the traps set for young men, they stand a 
hard chance. If you could see things as I do 
now, I believe you would spend your whole 
time in preaching.” 

“ I am no preacher.” 

“ You can preach ^though to good purpose. 
Mr. Galvin has a wonderful infiuence, but the 
boys and men ’round here are looking to you 
more than to him.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE NEW CHAPEL. 

It was surprising how many were interested 
in the new chapel : men who for years had not 
entered a place of worship, women who had 
well-nigh forgotten the instruction in their 
country homes, and children whose only re- 
ligious teaching had been received in Mr. Gal- 
vin’s Sunday-school; all were looking forward 
to its completion. 

The audience-room would not be ready for 
occupancy for several months, but other rooms 
could be made available, and it was decided to 
open them for Sunday services and all social 
meetings. It would seem more homelike to 
meet there than in the hall, besides being free 
from any disturbance. First, there was to be 
“ a feast of rejoicing,” in which all so disposed 
were invited to participate. 

“ Why not call it a picnic, and let each con- 
tribute something for the table?” said Mr. 
Judd. ^‘The people will enjoy it much more 
than if everything is provided for them. Such 

(240) 


241 


The New ChapeL 

men as Dockara, Abrams, and Moran will gain 
immensely in self-respect if they contribute 
their share. The poorest can do something, 
and even if they pinch themselves for a day or 
two to do it, it will help them enough to pay. 
The women will take pride in doing their best 
in the way of cooking, and it will go hard with 
the boys, but they will bring their oifering. 
Trust Terry for that.” 

‘‘Thank you for the suggestion,” replied 
Stark Galvin. “We will give notice to that 
effect, and then have a reserve of food in case 
it should be needed.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair, who had been away 
from the city, returned in season for the picnic, 
which was largely attended. Every man em- 
ployed by the Galvins was invited to be pres- 
ent with his family ; an invitation which was 
duly honored. Every inmate of their tenement- 
house was present, proud and happy to be thus 
noticed. 

Mrs. Daly was there, wearing a new dress 
her boys had given her; shaking hands with 
many she had never met before, and greeting 
affectionately many others whom she regarded 
as old friends. 

“ It is the best day of my life,” she said, in 
reply to Mr. Sinclair’s greeting. “ 1 never ex- 
pected to see such a day this side of heaven. 


242 


The Attic Tena7it, 


It is a great thing to build a house for the 
Lord, and I am thankful money was given to 
them who had it in their hearts to do it.” 

We should all be thankful, but the widow’s 
mite is as precious now as it was in the time of 
our Saviour,” responded the clergyman. 

I have often thought of that, Mr. Sinclair, 
and it has helped me sometimes, when I was 
trying to do good in my small way.” 

“You are doing good now in a large way, 
Mrs. Daly. Teaching two schools is a large 
work for any woman, and that you are a suc- 
cessful teacher is proved by the work of your 
scholars.” 

“ I never thought of being called a teacher. 
That is too grand a name for me. I used to 
wish I could tell some of the careless young 
women how much depended on them. I thought 
I could do that, because I have seen so many 
unhappy homes where a woman might have 
made them so much better. Little things count 
in a home more than anywhere else.” 

“Little things count everywhere, as you can 
see right here. Each one has done a little 
towards furnishing this feast, and there is 
enough for all.” 

“ Yes, and how happy everybody seems. It 
is such a wonder, too, that this is our chapel, 
where the poorest can come and be sure pf a 


243 


The New Chapel. 

welcome. The meeting in the hall was worth 
everything to ns, but it will be a great deal 
more to come here.” 

Mrs. Daly had quite forgotten herself in her 
great happiness, or she would never have pre- 
sumed to express herself so freely to one whom 
she regarded as so much her superior. 

There were no sad faces. Each congratulated 
his neighbor, or talked of what might be ex- 
pected in the future, while the younger mem- 
bers of the company were jubilant. Winnie 
Moran had long since gone back to her father , 
but this evening she clung to Mrs. Daly, too 
happy to express half her gladness. 

Mrs. Murkland and her family were there; 
Florence one of the deft helpers who seemed 
to anticipate the wants of those she served. 
Her father would hardly have recognized her, 
so much had she changed since he saw her last. 
She had said many times that she wished never 
to see him again, but as there came regularly to 
her mother small sums of money, her heart soft- 
ened toward him. Every cent of this money 
had been deposited in the savings bank to the 
credit of James Murkland ; but although not 
spent for the family, it proved that they were 
not forgotten. 

“ We can take care of ourselves without any 
help from a drunkard,” said Jamie. 


244 


The Attic Tena7it. 


“ Your father may not be a drunkard now,” 
replied Mrs. Murkland, when the boy had ex- 
pressed himself with more than usual severity. 

“Such a man as he is will always be a drunk- 
ard, unless something makes him a Christian, 
and I guess he is too bad for that. Mr. Judd 
said it was no use to expect him ever to be any 
better.” 

“ Mr. Judd may be mistaken.” 

Mr. Judd himself had wondered if he was 
too hasty in his judgment, and having learned 
the address of the gentleman whose hand- 
writing had become familiar to him by the 
superscription of Mr. Murkland’s letters, he 
wrote to ask : 

“ Is it possible that James Murkland can ever 
be other than a brutal drunkard % ” 

The answer came quickly: 

“ With God all things are possible. So long 
as Murkland denies himself, as he is now doing, 
that he may save a pittance for his family, there 
is hope for him. I do not say that he is a 
Christian ; but that he is doing his best to live 
as a Christian should, I fully believe.” 

So much was communicated to Florence the 
day of the picnic, by Mr. Judd, with whom she 
was a favorite. 

“ I hope hedl be a Christian, but it don’t seem 
as though I could ever forgive him for being so 


245 


The New Chapel. 

wicked,” responded the child. “Mr. Sinclair 
says we never ought to have any hard feelings 
towards anybody, but we can’t all be as good 
as Mr. Sinclair wants to have us ; can we, Mr. 
Judd?” 

“ I am afraid not.” 

“I can’t. I try to, but something always 
happens to make me do what I ought not to. 
I don’t suppose Mr. Sinclair ever does anything 
but what is just right.” 

“ Mr. Sinclair is a good man.” 

“ I know he is, and I wish I was half as good. 
Isn’t this all beautiful ? And so many people 
here, and so many more that will come. Jamie 
says he hears men and boys talking about it on 
the street. Mr. Sinclair makes everybody like 
him.” 

This clergyman, whose long and varied ex- 
perience had made him quick to recognize the 
needs and capabilities of others, laid claim to 
no especial goodness, and now that he was 
entering upon a new work, he felt more than 
ever before his dependence upon God. 

He had many plans and anticipations. Above 
all, he wished to reach the young men ; many of 
whom had come from the country, with little 
knowledge of the temptations to which they 
would be exposed; while many others, with no 
memory of better things, needed to be taken by 


246 The Attic Tenant, 

the hand and led out of their surroundings of 
sin and shame. There was enough to call for 
the best efforts of the best workers. 

Mr. Sinclair’s personal magnetism was so 
great that friends were easily won; but with 
Mr. Judd, his progress was slow, until they 
made common cause in behalf of Ashton Kand- 
lett. 

Mr. Sinclair had met some friends of the 
young man who had spoken of him as possess- 
ing more than ordinary ability ; the private 
secretary of a wealthy gentleman who treated 
him with great kindness. 

Mr. Dockam’s report presented the case in a 
different aspect, and it was to his credit that he 
manifested so much interest in one having no 
claims upon him. Stark Galvin was interested 
and lost no time in making the acquaintance of 
the young man, whose agreeable manners were 
a passport to favor. It was easy to perceive, 
however, a certain laxness of principle which 
betrayed the influence to which he had yielded. 

When met by Mr. Sinclair, the news given 
him of his friends established a bond of sym- 
pathy between them. At length he was in- 
vited to attend the chapel service ; an invitation 
which he accepted, more because of the Galvins’ 
wealth, than from any desire to do so. 

I have hardly entered a church since I came 


The New Chapel. 247 

to the city,’’ he said to Stark Galvin, who hast- 
ened to roeet him at the close of the service. 

I have not been associated with church -going 
people. I was brought up to keep Sunday in 
the old-fashioned way; but since I came here 
everything has been different.” 

Your pardon ; but has it been better % ” 

“I am not prepared to say that it has, al- 
though men of the world claim that they have 
broader views than women can have who spend 
their lives at home in caring for their families.” 

“They may be broader, in a certain sense, 
but broadness is not always goodness, and 
Christian mothers are safer counsellors than 
luen of the world. Do you not think so, Mr. 
Kandlett % ” 

“They must be, but Mr. Tremlow always 
wishes me to spend the day with him, and be- 
fore night I almost forget it is Sunday.” 

“You will not forget it to-day; and now you 
are here, I hope you will come into the Bible- 
class. Mr. Sinclair is a model teacher, and we 
are anxious to enlist for him a model class.” 

“ But I have no lesson, so I should be an ad- 
dition only in numbers.” 

Mr. Eandlett made some further excuses, yet 
was finally persuaded to remain ; and under the 
genial influence of his surroundings contributed 
his full share to the interest of the hour. 


248 


The A ttic Tenant, 


“ I shall certainly hope to have you with us 
next Sabbath, unless you prefer some other 
place of worship,” said Mr. Sinclair. “We 
need such a Bible scholar as you are to help 
others who have not had your advantages. 
Will you come and help us? ” 

It was easy to see the struggle going on in 
the young man’s mind, but the steady, kindly 
gaze of his companion held him fast until he 
gave the desired promise. 

“ I will be here, unless unavoidably prevented. 
I have enjoyed the morning.” 

“I am glad that you have. We hope to 
make this truly the people’s chapel, where all 
can meet on common ground.” 

“ I am sure you will succeed,” was responded 
heartily ; yet as the young man walked away, he 
wondered that he had been so easily persuaded 
to make a promise he might find it irksome to 
redeem. His somewhat aristocratic ideas had 
been set aside ; while other ideas, he had 
thought quite banished from his mind, resumed 
their sway. 

The process of deterioration had been grad- 
ual; so gradual, that he could hardly tell when 
it had commenced. He remembered now that 
in an evil hour he had been party to an ar- 
rangement which might under certain condi- 
tions put him in the power of his employer. 


The New Chapel. 249 

At the time it had seemed right, but now, with 
a quickened conscience, he saw it in its true 
light and shuddered as he realized what the re- 
sult might be. 

There was nothing for him to do but to with- 
draw from his part of the business and abide 
the consequences. Mr. Tremlow heard him 
with evident surprise and illy concealed anger, 
saying at last : 

“ I have trusted you and I shall hold you to 
your engagement. My private secretary must 
do my bidding.’’ 

Then I am your private secretary no longer. 
I have been going wrong, and ” 

Mr. Tremlow was furious, crying : 

“You cannot leave me!” then with a tre- 
mendous effort controlling himself and trying 
his powers of persuasion and flattery. He as- 
sured his “ young friend ” that everything was 
“all right”; that in the morning they would 
go over the whole transaction, when he would 
explain whatever might seem questionable. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


OLD TEEMLOW. 

Lakge, substantial blocks of buildings occu- 
pied as stores and offices gave to Mr. Tremlow 
a generous income. Twenty tenement-houses 
in some of the worst quarters of the city paid 
him enormous profits on the original investment. 
Eight liquor-saloons, to every one of which was 
attached a gambling-room, yielded a somewhat 
fluctuating yet always large revenue. How 
these last were managed w^as known only to 
the initiated. As Lawrence Judd had once said, 
there were wheels within wheels, yet he did 
not fully understand how the power was ap- 
plied which kept the machinery in motion. 

Sam Ryder, until his last hours, had been 
loyal to his employer, whom, although far re- 
moved from him, he recognized as one of the 
city’s wealthy men. Dockam, even after he 
had declared himself free from the vile busi- 
ness, was not disposed to reveal more than cir- 
cumstances demanded. 

If the old fellow goes up, I shall go with 
him,” said this man. “ He would have his re- 

(250) 


Old Tremlow, 


251 


venge on me then, and he is only waiting for a 
chance to get it without compromising himself. 
He got big returns from the old place, and the 
returns are what he wants. He don^t care who 
loses if he gains. A good many young men 
have lost money that went into his pockets. 
They lost it, too, when they didn^t know wbat 
they were doing. There are different places 
for different customers. When a young man 
comes into a fortune, it is pretty certain that 
somebody will lay a plan to rob him, and if he 
drinks liquor, the game is likely to be bagged.” 

Was a plan laid to rob the Galvins in that 
way ? ” asked Mr. J udd, to whom the remarks 
quoted above had been made. 

“ They were watched, to see what the chances 
were,” was replied. “ But when young men go to 
work in the way they did, sharpers know better 
than to try a hand on them. They hadn’t been 
here six weeks before everybody knew they were 
Christians, without any sham about them.” 

“ Christians are sometimes no better than 
other 23eople.” 

“ I don’t want to dispute you, Mr. Judd, but 
to my mind a Christian is straightforward in 
everything he does. There’s no cheating about 
him, and no turning blind corners for money. 
•A Christian lives as much above such a wretch 
as I am as heaven is above the earth.” 


252 


The Attic Tenant, 


There are not many such.” 

“I don’t know about that, but if you are 
right, we have got more than our share ’round 
the chapel. Now I call you a Christian.” 

“ Don’t say that, Dockam. You never were 
more mistaken in your life.” 

“ Then what in the world are you working so 
for among the boys and young men % ” 

“I work for them because I want to help 
them. I told you when you first came to me 
that I am not a Christian.” 

“ I know you did, but you act like a Chris- 
tian, and so to me you are a Christian.” 

“We will not discuss that point, although I 
tell you again, I am not a Christian.” 

Made by any one else, Terry Brennan would 
have disputed that assertion, for, as he said : 

“ Mr. Judd always has his Bible open when 
I go up to the attic, and he is Just as difibrent 
as can be from what he was last winter. He 
was always good, but he is better now. I think 
we are all growing better, now we have a real 
meeting in the chapel, same as grand folks. It 
won’t be strange if we’re all Christians before 
long. I’m glad for the prayer-meetings Thurs- / 
day evenings. Mr. Judd sits back by the door, 
and he hasn’t said anything yet, but he’ll be 
coming up front, and then you’ll hear him.” 

Terry had a crowd of boys about him to 


Old Trent low. 


253 


whom he had been describing the chapel ser- 
vices, Sunday-school, illustrated papers, library 
books, and evening classes for study. 

We’ve got a temperance society, too, and all 
of us have signed the pledge,” he added. “ We 
are going to save something, every week, to put 
in the savings bank.” 

“We can’t save a cent a month,” replied one 
of the crowd. “We ain’t none of the rich ones.” 

“ Hold now,” cried Terry. “ Didn’t I see you 
going for beer only last evening, and don’t I 
know you smoke the little paper things that 
cost money, when you’d be worlds better off 
without them ? There’s lots of us just rising 
and going to be respectable. There comes 
Johnnie Dockam. Ask him about our temper- 
ance society and see what he says.” 

But Johnnie Dockam would not stop for a 
moment. He was in haste to find Mr. Judd; 
and when found, he was so alarmed and excited, 
it was with difficulty he could deliver the mes- 
sage entrusted to him. 

“ Father wants you to come as quick as you 
can, because if somebody don’t do something 
he’ll have to go to prison.” 

Having said thus much, the boy began to 
sob ; and Mr. Judd comprehending the trouble, 
started at once for Mr. Dockam’s house. Meet- 
ing Stark Galvin on the way, a few words ex- 


The A ttic Tenant, 


254 

plained all that was necessary to be told, and 
they went on together. 

“Thank you a thousand times for coming,” 
exclaimed the man, who was even then under 
guard of an officer. “ I don’t know as you can 
do anything for me, but there is somebody else 
needing help.” 

Mr. Dockam had been charged with a crime 
of which he declared himself innocent, although 
it would be difficult, and perhaps impossible to 
prove his innocence. 

“You are telling us the truth?” said Mr. 
Judd, questioningly. 

“I am,” was the quick reply. “After the 
sermon I heard, Sunday morning, I would not 
tell you a lie to keep myself from prison. I am 
on the square now, let what will come. I’ve 
no right to expect you to believe me, but for all 
that, I am telling you the truth. I had no 
claim on you, to send for you, but there was no 
one else.” 

“ You did right to send for me, and I am sure 
Mr. Galvin was willing to come.” 

“ Certainly I was, and I shall be glad to as- 
sist you in any way Mr. Judd may approve.” 

Saying this. Stark Galvin left to attend to 
business, while Mr. Judd remained to consult 
with Mr. Dockam ; assurance first being given 
to the officer in charge that no attempt to escape 


Old Tremlow, 


255 


would be made by the prisoner. From this 
consultation Mr. Judd went directly to the 
house of Mr. Tremlow, and when admitted to 
the presence of this man, said abruptly : 

“ I have come to demand justice both for the 
dead and the living; for the man known as 
George Lambert, now dead, and for Alfred 
Dockam ; both accused of crimes of which you 
know them to be innocent.” 

“Who are you, and what have I to do with 
those men ? ” was responded. “ I never heard 
their names before. You are a stranger to me, 
and the sooner our interview ends, the better I 
shall be pleased.” 

“ I do not doubt that, Mr. Tremlow, but if I 
am a stranger to you, you are not a stranger to 
me. 1 know you for the black-hearted villain 
that you are.” 

“Who are you who dare come to my house 
and accuse me in this way. I can call an officer 
to arrest you.” 

“You can call an officer, but in that case you 
will find that I am not the man to be arrested.” 

“What do you mean? I am a man of influ- 
ence, while you — who are you ? What is your 
name ? ” 

“ My name does not concern you ; but that I am 
a determined man, concerns you much. I have 
bided my time, and am not one to have Tvaited 


256 The Attic Tenant. 

in vain. The man yon called George Lambert 
I knew by another name; the name given him 
by his parents. I was with him when he died, 
and I know more of your villainies than you 
would care to have made public.” 

“What was the name by which you knew 
George Lambert ? ” 

“That is not for you to know. Such men as 
he have many aliases. ’I presume you could tell 
where Bangs may be found.” 

“ I will not submit longer to your insolence,” 
exclaimed the old man. “If you have any busi- 
ness with me let me know what it is.” 

“I will do so. First, withdraw the action 
against Dockam. His arrest was at your insti- 
gation, and it will be useless for you to deny it. 
Give me five thousand dollars for George Lam- 
bert’s wife, and ” 

“ I have nothing to do with Dockam or Lam- 
bert’s wife. You seem interested in them ; help 
them yourself.” 

“That is what I propose to do, but you will 
pay the bill. Have you forgotten Evarts Cut- 
ting, from w^hom you won two thousand dollars 
at a game of cards ? It was not much, compared 
with the fortune you have accumulated, but it 
was all he had, and there were others depend- 
ent upon him. You thought he committed sui- 
cide ” 


Old Tremlow. 


257 

he alive?” asked Mr. Tremlow, in his 
surprise forgetting his usual caution. 

“ He is alive and prosperous. He has re- 
deemed himself. He would not ask you for the 
money you stole from him, but I demand it.” 

“You are trying blackmailing with a venge- 
ance, but I am not to be caught so easily. I 
know nothing of the men you have mentioned.” 

“ I can prove every statement I have made, 
and am willing to do so. If you think Dockam 
will be silenced, you are mistaken. Money will 
not be wanting for bail and counsel.” 

“ Who will furnish bail and counsel for a 
miserable saloon-keeper like him ? ” 

“Mr. Galvin will furnish bail, and counsel 
can be easily obtained. You must have learne(( 
long ago that men are not always what the}' 
seem. I will give you twenty-four hours to 
accede to my proposal. If at the end of that 
time you refuse, you will be shown no mercy. 
I have not spoken yet of Ashton Kandlett, for 
he has escaped you. He has influential friends 
who will see that he does not suffer from your 
intrigues. I will call on you to-morrow.” 

When left alone, it was hard for Mr. Trem- 
low to realize that he had been so accused and 
threatened by a man dressed as a common 
laborer, who yet talked like one having au- 
thority. 


The Attic Tenant. 


258 

It was many a year since he had heard the 
name of Evarts Cutting, but he had not forgot- 
ten the young man, although trying hard to do 
so. He experienced a sense of relief in know- 
ing that this victim of his toils had not com- 
mitted suicide, yet trembled at thought of what 
might come to himself. 

George Lambert was dead, so there was noth- 
ing to fear from him. As for Dockam, he was 
too low down to have any considerable influ- 
ence, except as the Galvins took him up. 

There was the trouble. The Galvins had 
money and a large following, which was con- 
stantly increasing. He could not tell what in- 
fluence this might have. 

But he could not indulge in such thoughts. 
There was business before him for which he 
must make preparation. If he could in any 
way make it appear that others had been guilty 
of the irregularities charged to him he might 
possibly bid defiance to his enemy, as he was 
pleased to call the man who had so boldly 
accused him. 

He might curse Ashton Randlett for leaving 
him, but there was small consolation in that. He 
could well afford to pay the money demanded of 
him, and before midnight he had decided to do 
SO; He understood how to release Dockam, and 
early in the morning this was accomplislud. 


Old Trent low. 


259 


When Mr. Judd made his second call, he was 
received as a business man with whom business 
was to be transacted with customary formali- 
ties. 

“ Are you satisfied ? asked Mr. Tremlow, 
when the last dollar had been paid and the 
last paper signed. 

“ You have acceded to my demands,” was re- 
plied. “I have no more to ask of you at pres- 
ent, except that you close the gambling-rooms 
in which you are interested. You may have a 
license for the sale of liquor, but you have none 
for gambling, and the rooms must be closed. 
Detectives are hard at work. They have some 
clues which will be faithfully followed up ; but 
enough is known already to brand you as a 
villain before the world.” 

“ I am not sure but I will have you arrested 
for blackmailing,” exclaimed the old man; his 
anger overcoming his prudence. 

“ I am quite willing you should do so,” re- 
sponded his visitor. “ It would give me an op- 
portunity to expose some villainies which other- 
wise may never come to light.” 


CHAPTER XXVIL 


OUT OF PLACE. 

Men who had known Stark Dabney in his 
strange, isolated life, watched with eager curi- 
osity those who, having come into possession of 
his property, spent it so lavishly. 

Some there were who said they spent it fool- 
ishly, while many others said that, with larger 
experience, they would have moved more cau- 
tiously. Others still there were who pronounced 
their schemes impracticable and visionary; a 
tremendous outlay for no practical returns. 

But as time went on the results became ap- 
parent. Everything prospered in the hands of 
these young people. It was not long before 
they received a generous offer for some real 
estate which less than a year before had been 
considered almost valueless. This being de- 
clined, an advance upon the first price named 
was offered, but Stark Galvin was too good a 
business man not to know that it was wanted 
for speculative purposes, and wisely decided to 
retain his hold upon it. 

(260) 


26 i 


OtU of Place, 

That part of the city in which the land was 
situated was becoming, every day, a more de- 
sirable locality for residence or business. The 
owners had plans for its continued improve- 
ment; and besides, they wished to avoid all 
conflicting interests. What had been so well 
begun they wished to carry out to completion. 

Christmas came and went with the usual fes- 
tivities and abundance of good cheer; this anni- 
versary being appropriately observed in the 
new chapel with song and story. Stark Galvin 
told the old, old story so simply, yet so tender- 
ly, that many, all unused to weeping, were 
moved to tears. 

“That man goes down to the very heart of 
things,” said Mr. Sawyer. “I have watched 
him ever since he came here, and he is one 
♦ among a thousand. I always called old Stark 
Dabney a just man, and he was, but his nephew 
has a different standard of justice from what I 
have been used to in my life. Mr. Galvin is a 
Christian, and I wish I was as good as he is.” 

This was said to Mr. Judd, who, looking up 
with an expression in his face never before seen 
by his companion, responded : 

“I am beginning to wish that I was a Chris- 
tian. I want to do work in the world that only 
a Christian can do. I want to be in the thick- 
est of the fight against all that is WTong, and I 


262 The Attic Tenant, 

want to make some amends for my long neglect 
of duty.” 

God Mess you for saying that, Mr. Judd. I 
have done far less than you, but I want now to 
do what I can. Let us begin together.” 

There was a close clasping of hands, and so a 
compact was sealed, to be afterward known to 
others by its results. Yet through all this 
Lawrence Judd did not change his style of liv- 
ing. He still worked in the basement and made 
his home in the attic. 

Mr. Sinclair recognized in him a liberally 
educated man. Indeed, he had betrayed this 
fact on various occasions, but the mystery sur- 
rounding him seemed no nearer a solution than 
when he was known only as Stoker Judd. Dif- 
ferent people began to speak of him as fine- 
looking; a gentleman, showing the marks of ^ 
high breeding and unusual intelligence. 

Always at his post, the possibility that he 
would ever absent himself seemed not to have 
entered Mr. Sawyer’s mind; so that the sur- 
prise was greater when he said hurriedly : 

“ I must leave on the next train. T cannot 
tell how long I shall be away, or whether I 
shall ever return to my work here. I know a 
man who can take my place and who needs the 
work. If you will give him a trial you will 
oblige us both.” 


Out of Place, 263 

“ I shall be glad to oblige you, and I wish 
you a pleasant vacation,’^ was responded. “ I 
will give your man a fair trial.” 

“ He is now in the basement. He understands 
the work, and f feel sure you can trust him.” 

“That is sufficient. I will see him there.” 

The wages then due were paid, and within an 
hour the attic of the tenement-house was closed. 
The tenant had left the city for the first time 
since he rented it of Mr. Dabney, eleven years 
before. 

That his absence was counted a misfortune 
was proved by the many expressions of regret 
on the part of the young men whom he met two 
evenings in every week for the study of mathe- 
matics. They were enthusiastic in their praise 
of him as a teacher, while he was as enthusi- 
astic in regard to them. 

The class was led by Hubbard Abrams, who 
had made such rapid improvement as to quite 
surprise even those who expected most from 
him. So anxious to learn was he, that from the 
first he had received especial attention, and was 
far in advance of his companions. 

“ I am puzzled to know what to do with that 
class,” said Stark Galvin, addressing Mr. Sin- 
clair, who had come in as a visitor. 

“ Suppose you take the class yourself,” was 
responded. 


264 The Attic Tenant. 

“ I should not think of doing such a thing. 
Those young men are accustomed to different 
instruction from what I could give them. The 
contrast would be too great. I never knew 
until now how much I have depended upon 
Mr. Judd. He has been a great help to me in 
every way, and he knows so much more than I 
do, I feel like a child beside him. If I had time 
for study, I know of no one I should prefer for 
a teacher.’’ 

“ He is a remarkable man, and if I am not 
mistaken, he has a remarkable history. We 
may never know what that history is, but it has 
left its stamp upon him.” 

“That is certain, and it is just as certain that 
he is entirely out of place as stoker and attic 
tenant, although I should not presume to tell 
him so. 1 once proposed to him to take a more 
comfortable room, but he declined so peremp- 
torily that I apologized for mentioning it. I 
shall not offend in that w’^ay again.” 

“ Is any one admitted to his attic ? ” 

“ Only the children of the house, and Terry 
Brennan says he don’t seem to like to have 
them come as much as they used to. Since 
they began to learn more from books, they ask 
him questions about the books in his library, 
and Terry thinks it troubles him.” 

“That may be, and he has a right to main- 


Out of Place. 265 

tain his privacy if he chooses. You have no 
idea how long he will be away ? ” 

“ None whatever. I did not know he was 
going until he had gone. Mr. Sawyer and the 
man who takes his place as stoker were the 
only ones to whom he spoke of being away.” 

With Mr. Sawyer he left a request that all 
letters coming to him should be kept until his 
return, or otherwise ordered, except one bear- 
ing a certain postmark, which was to be opened 
by Mr. Galvin, who would know what to do 
with the contents. 

The letter came as expected, and when Stark 
Galvin had deciphered the badly written scrawl 
he thought best to give it to Mrs. Murkland. 
It contained double the amount usually sent by 
her husband in one remittance, with inquiries 
for his family and a promise to do more for 
them in future. He was earning larger wages, 
and not wanting much for himself. He closed 
his letter with the words : 

I ain’t fit to be with my family, but I can 
work for them and pray for them, and may God 
help us all.” 

Mrs. Murkland held the letter long in her 
hands before opening it. Strange as it may 
seem, it was the first letter written by her hus- 
band that she had ever seen ; and, however she 
might feci toward him, she could not read his 


266 


The A ttic Tenant, 


confession of un worthiness without being moved 
by it. Over and over again she read it until 
she knew every mark on the paper. After this, 
she gave it to Jamie, asking him to read it. 

“ Did father write to you? ” asked the boy. 

“ No, but it was brought to me because Mr. 
Judd is away,” she replied. “ I want you to 
read it.” 

“ I don’t want to, mother. I don’t want to 
ever hear that man’s name again. I want to for- 
get I ever had a father. I’ve said so a good 
many times, and meant it too, and I don’t be- 
lieve I shall ever change. Don’t you hate him, 
mother ? If you let him come back, I really 
believe I shall run away and stay forever.” 

Just as Jamie said this, he turned to open 
the door in response to a rap for admission ; 
and there stood Mrs. Daly, smiling, and curt- 
seying in her old-fashioned way, which always 
made one feel that she brought with her a 
motherly sympathy for all in trouble. 

“And how is it with you all to-da,y?” she 
asked brightly. 

“Mother will tell you about that,” was re- 
plied. “ I’m sorry and cross, all together, so 
I’ll take myself out of the way. But don’t lay 
it up against me, Mrs. Daly, for I am always 
glad to see you, and you do mother lots of good 
every time you come.” 


Out of Place, 267 

No one could have been more welcome to 
Mrs. IMurkland. Mrs. Daly was a wise coun- 
sellor and friend. She knew all which had 
been reported in regard to the drunkard’s 
change of habits, and had often wondered if he 
would return to his family. His letter was 
read and then the question was asked : 

“ Is it my duty to ask him to come back to 
me and the children ? I want to do what is 
right about it, and I wish you would tell me 
what that is.” 

“Your children must be considered, dear. 
Perhaps everybody wouldn’t think so, but I 
think they ought to have some voice in deciding 
about it. You say he hadn’t done anything 
for their support for years.” 

“Not for five years, Mrs. Daly. In that 
time, too, he took money we earned and spent 
it for liquor. It was hard for me to keep it 
away from him. It was all I could do to get 
enough to keep us from starving. But if he is 
a Christian he won’t ever be bad again. 

“I don’t know what made me marry him. 
I’ve wondered about it a thousand times, and 
when I had been married a year I would have 
given the whole world, if I had it, to be free 
from him. I don’t know as it was right to feel 
so, but it seemed as though I would rather die 
than live with him.” 


268 


The A ttic Tenant, 


“You ain’t the only woman, dear, who has 
felt like that. I think girls forget that mar- 
riage is a solemn thing. It is patting your 
happiness in the hands of another, and taking 
responsibilities you never can throw off.” 

“Then you think I ought to be willing to 
have my husband come back.” 

“ I wasn’t thinking that, dear. If I was in 
your place, feeling as you do, I wouldn’t say 
anything about his coming back. It wouldn’t 
be strange if it was best for him to stay where 
he is.” 

“ O, Mrs. Daly, I am so glad you think that. 
I couldn’t talk with anybody else about it as I 
have with you; and I can’t help feeling the 
same as Florence and Jamie do: that I never 
'want to see their father again.” 


CHAPTER XXVIIL 


COUSIN LAWRENCE. 

“ The same Lawrence, and glad I am to see 
you,” exclaimed Mr. Hermon, who thus wel- 
comed to his home one he had known as a boy, 
and in whose life he had been deeply interested. 

I was sure you would come, and it is time. I 
have done the best that was in me, but there is 
need of some new influence. There is much to 
be said. You will have dinner, and then we 
shall have the night before us for talking. We 
shall not be interrupted. There are only my 
sister and a servant in the house. She is ex- 
pecting you, but she will not detain you long.” 

You are considerate as always,” replied the 
visitor. “You have been my friend when I 
had no others. I could not have done what I 
have without you.” 

“There might have been some one who would 
do better. The Lord raises up helpers for those 
who need them.” 

“ And deserve them, Mr. Hermon. I did not 
deserve them.” 


(269) 


270 The Attic Tenant 

“We will not discuss that point, Lawrence. 
You have done a great deal for one who had small 
claim on you, and I know you have been doing 
well for yourself. That is written all over you.” 

A flush suffused the usually pale face, as a 
graceful bow acknowledged the compliment; 
and after a few minutes’ further conversation, 
Lawrence Judd was ushered into the presence 
of Miss Hermon. This lady, who had presided 
over her brother’s house since the death of his 
wife, met him with the greatest cordiality. 

“I have been wishing to see you all these 
years,” she said in the voice he remembered so 
well. “ You should not have kept us waiting 
so long.” 

“ It was best,” he answered. “ I often wished 
to see you, but I had my work to do quite apart 
from my old life.” 

“ I think you must have put much of your 
old life behind you.” 

“ I have tried to do that, but it is true now 
as ever that our past lives enfold us. If I could 
forget all in the past I should count myself most 
fortunate ; but the present gives me a pleasure 
I shall enjoy while I can.” 

Dinner was served, and an hour spent in 
cheerful conversation. Later, when the two 
men were by themselves, Lawrence Judd said : 

“ You had an object in sending for me.” 


Cousin Lawrence, 


271 


Wf 


“I had,” was replied. “ I was in haste to see 
you. Now that Allan is of age, with property 
soon to come into his possession, I think it best 
that he should know something of his father. 
He asked me, a few days ago, why I never 
mentioned his father, and I told him I would 
explain at some future time. We have always 
talked to him of his mother, and he knows she 
was unwilling to have him under his father’s 
influence. If he knows more than that, he has 
never betrayed his knowledge. He said, yes- 
terday, he was going for a little trip with some 
friends and should return to-morrow. The 
friends with whom he has gone, are not such 
as 1 should choose for him, but he is old enough 
to act for himself. 

He knows that money has been placed in my 
hands to defray his expenses. 1 have never made 
any mystery of that, and until quite recently he 
believed it was his mother’s property.” 

“ Is he all you would have him, Mr. Hermon ? 
I have thought there was a little change in the 
tone of your letters.” 

I have done my best for him, Lawrence, but 
he needs now the warning of his father’s fate. 
What effect it will have upon him I cannot tell, 
but the experiment must be made.” 

Is he in danger of following his father’s ex- 
ample ? ” 


272 


The Attic Tenant. 


There is always danger that a son will suf- 
fer for his father’s sins, but don’t be too much 
alarmed. I believe you have it in your power 
to hold Allan to a course of conduct you can 
approve. Tell hiai the story of his father’s life. 
Let him know how much he is indebted to you. 
Tell him what self-denial you have practiced. 
I don’t know about that, but you have pro- 
vided generously for the boy.” 

“ What 1 have done for him has been done 
willingly. I owed it to his mother. If it had 
not been for her I should never have tried to 
redeem my life. She inspired me with hope 
and courage when I felt that everything was 
lost. When I promised her that I would keep 
Allan from his father, I intended to do it at any 
cost. I have done it. My interest in him and 
his dependence upon me has given me a motive 
for living. For a long time I had nothing else 
to live for.” 

How is it now \ ” 

“ Everything is changed for me. The world 
is changed.” 

I knew it by your letters. You have come 
into the world again.” 

have, and, please God, I shall stay in the 
world as long as there is work for me to do.” 

“ That will be as long as you live. You have 
the ability to do good work too.” 


Cousin Lawrence, 


273 

“I shall try. I held Sam Kyder in check, 
but I was glad when he died. He was a hard- 
ened wretch, but I gave him Christian burial, 
and sometimes now I pity him. He set himself 
deliberately to rob me and ruin me, yet if I had 
done as I should, he could not have harmed me.” 

“ That does not excuse him, Lawrence.” 

“ By no means. I saved Cousin Miriam from 
some years of suffering, and I saved Allan from 
his clutches. Of course he hated me the more 
for it. I think he would have murdered me 
had he dared to do so.” 

“ Was he as bad a man as that ? ” 

There was no wickedness of which he was 
not capable. He was utterly hardened.” 

“ Did he ever love Allan’s mother ? ” 

“Never. He married her to get possession 
of her property, and when that was gone he re- 
mained with her for what he could control of 
her scanty earnings. As for loving her, I doubt 
if he ever loved any one. I am sure he did not 
love his mother, although she was ready to 
make any sacrifice for him. It was an evil day 
when she came into my father’s house to take 
my mother’s place.” 

“ I always felt that she came in to take prop- 
erty which should have been yours.” 

“ All the property went the same way. Sam 
Kyder had it all.” 


The Attic Tenant. 


274 

Did he marry a second time ? ” 

He said he did not, although a woman lived 
with him who believed herself to be his wife, 
until the morning before he died. He told her 
then in the most heartless way that their mar- 
riage was only a farce.” 

“ What has become of her ? ” 

She is living in an humble way among some 
poor people who treat her kindly, and where 
she finds opportunities for doing good to others 
who need such help as she can give them. Sam 
led her- a terrible life, but she clung to him 
through it all.” 

“You have never told me how you lived, 
Lawrence.” 

“Your pardon, Mr. Hermon, but why should 
I, so long as I kept my promise to pay Allan’s 
bills until he should be of age? I would pay 
them longer, if it was necessary and it would 
be for his good.” 

“ It would not be for his good. I sometimes 
think too much has been done for him, and wish 
there was not a dollar of money coming to him. 
I am thankful for your part of the inheritance.” 

“ I think I can be trusted with it, but I am 
thankful it did not come to me sooner. I needed 
the long years of discipline and self-denial ; and, 
Mr. Hermon, they have been very long. God 
only knows how I fought against old habits, 


Cousin Lawrence, 


275 


and how often I was tempted to give up the 
contest. I was fighting against God at the same 
time, and that made it infinitely harder.” 

‘‘ The fight is over.” 

“ It is over, and with God’s help I shall keep 
on in a straight path to the end. Tell me one 
thing, Mr. Hermon : is there danger that Allan 
will he a drunkard ? ” 

“ Two months ago I should have told you no. 
But a new infiuence has come into his life. He 
is madly in love with a young lady whose 
acquaintance he has made within a few weeks. 
She is the daughter of a wine-drinking man, 
and takes a glass of wine herself when, as she 
says, she is in the mood. She is some years 
Allan’s senior — the very one to have great in- 
fiuence over him. 

“ At a party, where she met him not long ago, 
she challenged him to drink with her, and after 
some hesitation he took the glass from her hand. 
That was his first glass, but I have reason to 
believe it was not his last.” 

“ Have you remonstrated with him ? ” 

“Not directly. It would do no good. He 
considers himself his own master. He has not 
treated me with disrespect, but it is plain to be 
seen that he would not brook anything like in- 
terference on my part. I have always preached 
total abstinence to him, and while he was in 


276 The Attic Tenant, 

delicate health I forbade his having any alco- 
holic stimulant. I said, on more than one occa- 
sion, that it would be better for him to die with- 
out it, than live with it. Better be an invalid 
than a drunkard. I knew how his mother 
would feel about it, and I knew how you would 
feel. I did not trouble 3^ou with every detail 
in regard to him. I thought you would prefer 
that I should not.” 

“ It was not necessary, Mr. Hermon. When 
I placed the boy with you and engaged to be 
responsible for his support, I did not intend to 
see him again. I laid my plans deliberately, 
and for ten years I adhered to them. I have 
grown old in that time, and I have learned that 
the unexpected often frustrates our best laid 
schemes.” 

“ The lines in your face are lines of experi- 
ence rather than of age, Lawrence. I know you 
are a teetotaler.” 

I am.” 

“ And a Christian ? ” 

“ I hope I am, although it seems almost pre- 
sumptuous in me to say that.” 

“ It is never presumptuous to believe in God’s 
forgiving mercy, if one is honestly trying to do 
one’s duty.’- 

“ That is what I am trying to do, Mr. Her- 
mon, but I come far short of my ideal. I should 


Cousin Lawrence. 277 

have begun when I was yonng. If my mother 
had lived, everything would have been different 
with me. I know now what she might have 
been to me.” 

“ Your mother was a good woman. Had 
sKe lived she would have given you wise coun- 
sel, and you would not have come under Sam 
Ryder’s influence.” 

“ Cousin Miriam, too, might hai^e been saved. 
I knew enough of Sam Ryder, then, to be sorry 
for her, but I could not have influenced her to 
give him up. He had a smooth tongue, and he 
knew how to carry his point. 

“ Mr. Hermon, now that I have learned more 
of the ways of such villains, I believe the liquor 
I drank with Sam Ryder was drugged. Not 
always, but when it suited his purpose. I did 
not suspect it until it was too late for me to 
profit by the suspicion.” 

“ Have you proof of it ? ” 

I have his own confession. I compelled 
him to sign a paper acknowledging his villainy 
and the motives prompting it. Of course, be 
was unwilling to do it, but he chose between 
that and an exposure which would have sent 
him to prison. He said it put a halter around 
his neck, and so it did. If necessity requires, I 
wdll show it to his son. 

“Desperate diseases require desperate reme- 


The Attic Tenant. 


278 

dies. Once the boy becomes an habitual wine- 
drinker, he is lost. At some rate and in some 
way he must be saved. He must be made to 
realize the curse of his inheritance.” 

“ What of the young lady with whom he is 
in love ? She must be only amusing herself 
with him.” 

“ She is considered beautiful. Allan says she 
is beautiful as^a houri.” 

That is enough for me to know. A houri 
with a wine-glass in her hand is not a safe com- 
panion for him.” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


ALLAN SCHUYLER. 

Allan Schuyler did not return when ex- 
pected and Mr. Hermon was troubled. 

“There is something wrong,” he said sadly. 
“ Since Allan went away I have learned that he 
v/ent in company with a set of young men who 
are known as somewhat fast, I suppose they 
would hardly be called dissipated, but they 
cannot be safe companions. 

“ Allan’s intimacy with them is a new thing 
for which I am very sorry. With his ante- 
cedents he needs to exercise the greatest self- 
restraint. I fear he is too easily influenced. If 
he goes to the bad, I shall blame myself. I 
have often thought I ought not to have ac- 
cepted the trust.” 

“ Xo one else would have done as well. In 
taking Allan under your care, you proved your- 
self his friend and mine. He is now old enough 
to act for himself, and after what I shall tell 
him he will act intelligently. I am beginning 
to think it mistaken kindness to conceal from 

(279) 


28 o 


The Attic Tenant. 


children the sins and mistakes of their parents. 
To be forewarned is to be forearmed, and they 
who are wise will profit by the experience of 
those who have gone before them.” 

“ You may be right, Lawrence. I am quite 
willing to yield to your judgment, and after 
you have had an interview with Allan, I shall 
feel that you have taken from me the responsi- 
bility of his future. I am growing older, and 
more distrustful of myself.” 

It was late in the evening when the young 
man returned, and contrary to his usual custom, 
went directly to his room, without reporting 
himself to Miss Hermon, who was anxiously 
waiting for him. 

Mr. Hermon did not need to be told that 
there was something to be concealed. He was 
as sure of it as when, ten minutes later, he con- 
fronted Allan Schuyler and said in a tone of 
authority : 

“Look at me;” adding quickly: “You have 
been drinking wine; you, the son of a gambler 
and a drunkard. You have been drinking wine. 
May God pity you.” 

“My father, a drunkard and a gambler!” 
was responded hoarsely. 

“Yes; of the blackest sort, and Is it pos- 

sible that you have started on the same down- 
ward road? God forgive me if I have not 


28 i 


Allan Schuyler. 

done my duty. I ought not to have taken such 
a trust, but I did it for the sake of your mother 
and your Cousin Lawrence. Oh, Allan, is this 
the result of my teaching and my counsel ? ” 

The young man did not reply. He did not 
even look at his friend, but stood with down- 
cast eyes and crimsoned face. Great drops of 
perspiration stood on his forehead, and his 
hands worked nervously. 

“ What have you to say to me ? ” was asked, 
and still he did not speak. After a short silence 
Mr. Hermon said : 

“Your Cousin Lawrence is here. He has 
been here two days, and you must see him to- 
night.” 

“ I cannot,” was replied. “ He is a stranger, 
and I have no wish to make his acquaintance.” 

“ For all that, you must see him to-night. He 
was your mother’s cousin. He provided for her 
the last year of her life, and he has provided for 
you while you have been with me. He has paid 
all your bills.” 

“ He paid my bills ! Is he a rich man ? ” 

“No; he has earned the money. I don’t 
know how he earned it, but I judge it was 
done by hard work. He inherited a small 
fortune, but your father managed to rob him 
of it when he was a young man. How it was 
done was always a mystery, but it could not 


282 


The Attic Tenant, 


have been done had Lawrence been a teetotal- 
er as he is now. Allan, there is bad blood in 
your veins. Perhaps I ought to have told you 
all this before.” 

O Mr. Hermon, I wish you had. 1 wish 
you had. I should have done differently. I 
know I should. But in mercy leave me now 
and let me think.” 

“ I will send you a cup of strong coffee, and 
within an hour I hope to see you in the library, 
where I will introduce you to Lawrence Judd. 
You owe him, at least, that civility. Will 
you come % ” 

“ If I can, but oh, the misery of it ! I think 
I am sobered now, so I hardly need the coffee. 
You have told me enough to clear my brain, if 
anything could do it, but I will drink the cof- 
fee.” 

Miss Hermon, herself, prepared the coffee, 
judging rightly why it was needed. The boy, 
as she called Allan, was very dear to her, and 
the fear that he might go wrong caused her 
great anxiety. At last he went to the library, 
where he met his cousin, who, to cover his evi- 
dent embarrassment, said cordially : 

“ I am glad to see you. You have changed 
since I saw you last. Then you were a delicate 
child ; now you have grown to the full stature 
of manhood. I have never forgotten you, and 


28 


A llan Sch uyler, 

through all these years I have looked forward 
to our possible meeting. I have wondered how 
it would be. Now all anticipations are merged 
in the realization.” 

Mr. Hermon did not stay to hear all this. 
Having introduced the cousins to each other, 
he excused himself and retired. 

“ You are very kind,” responded the younger 
man. “I have just been told of my indebted- 
ness to you. I wish I had known it long ago. 
What has been told me to-night should have 
been told me ten years ago. I would not have 
lived a pensioner upon your bounty, and God 
knows I would sooner have cut off my right 
hand, than taste of wine.” 

“ Do you care for it, Allan ? ” 

This question was asked anxiously ; and the 
reply was anxiously awaited. 

“ Care for it ! ” exclaimed Allan Schuyler. 

I think the craving for it has been like a de- 
mon waiting to devour me. The very sight of 
it sets my blood on fire. You cannot under- 
stand it, but ” 

“A man who has fought that craving for fif- 
teen years knows what it costs.” 

‘‘ You, Cousin Lawrence ! Have you done 
that ? ” 

“ I have.” 

“ And is it a fight still ? ” 


284 


The Attic Tenant. 


“ No ; thank God, I have conquered ; but I 
must be a total abstainer, or a drunkard. One 
glass of wine would set me back to renew the 
light, with the odds more against me than at 
first.” 

^‘And through all these years you have 
worked for me % ” 

“ I have. I promised your mother that, at 
any cost, I would keep you away from your 
father, and I had a hold upon him which made 
him fear me, so that I was able to prevent his 
claiming you.” 

“ Why, Cousin Lawrence, I owe everything 
to you.” 

“ You owe it to yourself, Allan, to live an 
honorable, useful life.” 

“ I owe more to you than I can ever pay, but 
you shall have my share of the property coming 
to us.” 

Up to this time the two had been standing; 
now Lawrence Judd seated himself upon a sofa 
and drew his cousin down beside him, while 
every other feeling was swept away by the 
great wave of pity surging over him. There 
was a short silence, broken at length by Allan 
Schuyler. 

“I have often wondered about my father, 
but I supposed him to be dead. I remember 
that my mother kept me out of his way as much 


Allan Schuyler, 285 

as she could, and that I was afraid of him. I 
wish you would tell me the very worst I need 
to know. Make me hate the very thought of 
wine and all games of chance.” 

“ Is it so bad as that, Allan ? ” 

“ Don’t ask me. I have been infatuated, 
blind and insane, forgetting everything I ought 
to remember. I wish I could tell you all about 
it. It seems as though it might help me.” 

“ I shall be glad to help you. I am not 
so old, that I have forgotten when I was 
younger.” 

Cousin Lawrence, did you ever love a woman 
so madly, that you were willing to be her slave, 
if you could only be with her % ” 

“ I had such an infatuation when I was a 
boy, and after I was cured of that, I loved a 
woman truly and well, as only a strong man 
loves when there is for him but one woman in 
the world. I love that woman now. I shall 
love her as long as I live. Your father set 
himself to make me unworthy of her, and 
then reported my unworthiness. He need 
not have taken the trouble to do that; for I 
loved her too well to wish to link her fate with 
mine.” 

“ Are you married. Cousin Lawrence ? ” 

“No; I never expect to be married, but my 
love will always be the same.” 


286 


The A ttic Tenant, 


Is the woman you love married ? ” 

I cannot tell you. I have not heard from 
her for ten years. Your father would have 
married her, that he might get control of her 
property, but she refused him. He told me 
that when he was dying.” 

My father must have been the evil genius 
of your life.” 

For many years he was, but there is always 
this to be remembered : I was not guiltless. If 
I had been governed by right principles it 
would have been impossible for him to effect 
my ruin. He might have taken every dollar 
of my property, and still not have ruined me. 
Money is not all, or the best of a man’s posses- 
sions.” 

“ I know that. Cousin Lawrence, but money 
counts for a great deal in this woidd, ’though 
there are many things money will never pay 
for. Money can never pay you for what you 
have done for me.” 

If you will live so to make the most and 
best of yourself, I shall be repaid for all I have 
done.” 

Ho you know how much I have cost you in 
dollars and cents ? ” 

“ I have kept an exact account of every dollar 
I have spent in the last eleven years.” 

“ I am afraid you have not provided as well 


287 


Allan Schuyler, 

for yourself as you have for me. It seems 
now as though I had known you all my life, 
and I have talked to you as I never could to 
any one else.” 

Allan Schuyler could not tell why it was that 
he gave his confidence to a man, Avho hut a 
short time before he regarded as a stranger ; yet 
in doing this he had only yielded to the mag- 
netic infiuence few could resist. He seemed to 
be drawn out of himself, and the longer he was 
with his cousin, the more entirely did he yield 
to this influence, until at last he opened his 
very heart. 

“I love Estelle Vance, and when with her I 
have no will of my own,” he said after some 
previous confessions. 

“ Does she love you ? ” was asked in reply. 

“ How can I tell ? Sometimes she seems to, 
and then I am perfectly happy. I forget every- 
thing else. Bub she is not always so. Some- 
times I think she is only amusing herself with 
me, and then I am perfectly wretched.” 

“You took your first glass of wine from her 
hand.” 

“ I did, and I don’t know but I should have 
drank it if I had known it would kill me. 
When she smiles on me as she did then, I have 
no power to resist her.” 

“ A woman’s smile has lured many a man to 


288 


The A ttic Tenant, 


destruction, and — thank God — it has saved 
many a man fr^m ruin. I think I can appre- 
ciate your feelings, and such love as yours is 
not to be ridiculed; yet. Cousin Allan, I believe 
you will live to see the day when you can look 
back to it without a single quickening of your 
pulse. 

“ Suppose you go back with me and spend a 
few weeks away from old associations. I will 
not ask you to share my bachelor quarters, for 
you would not find them pleasant, but I can 
promise you a pleasant home with friends of 
mine, where I am sure you will meet agreeable 
companions.” 

“ I think I should find anything pleasant that 
is shared with you. Cousin Lawrence, and I 
know I should grow stronger and better. I 
ouglit to go with you, but ” 

“ New surroundings and new experiences will 
make things appear to you in a different light, 
and if you really wish to break away from 
your fast associates, you can do it in no other 
way so easily. Then, too, we have a common 
interest in common property, and as you are 
at liberty, while I am not, it will be easier for 
you to go with me, than for me to remain with 
you.” 

“ When shall we go ? ” 

would like to go to-morrow. A sharp 


Allan Schuyler, 289 

knife cuts quickly, and if a knot is to be sev- 
ered, the quicker the better.’^*- 

“ I suppose it must be severed. Cousin Law- 
rence. I can see that.’’ 

The elder man could see, too, what this sev- 
ering would cost, and gathered his companion 
in his arms, as a mute expression of sympathy, 
more eloquent than words. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


A KEVELATIOJSr. 

Me. SmcLAiK received a telegram from Law- 
rence Judd, asking if lie would receive a young 
friend into his family for a few days. The re- 
sponse came quickly ; an assurance of welcome, 
which was all that could be desired. 

Allan Schuyler was restless and ill at ease, 
tortured by conflicting emotions, and tempted 
almost beyond his powers of resistance. It was 
not until he had left his old home behind him 
and he was en route for a distant city, that he 
became comparatively quiet. Even then, his 
mind was so preoccupied that he paid little 
heed to his cousin, who tried in vain to interest 
him in the scenes through which they were 
passing. 

Arrived at their journey’s end, he was taken 
at once to the parsonage, where he was received 
so cordially that he could not long feel himself 
a stranger. In the evening he was present at 
the meeting of Mr. Judd’s class in mathematics, 
who welcomed back their teacher with demon- 
strative enthusiasm. 

(290) 


A Revelation, 


291 


As he listeDed admiringly to the instruction 
given, he did not wonder at the eager faces and 
close attention. There was no listlessness or 
inattention. The young men and boys appreci- 
ated the privilege they enjoyed, and made the 
most of their opportunities. 

In addition to the various classes there was 
the reading-room, well warmed and lighted, 
offering a quiet retreat for any who chose to 
spend the evening in reading ; and one must be 
hard to please who could not find upon its 
tables something of interest. 

During the evening Allan Schuyler was in- 
troduced to Stark and Varney Galvin, of whose 
wealth and generosity he had been told, and 
who impressed him as being thoroughly in 
earnest in what they had undertaken. 

Mr. Sinclair will be so kind as to show you 
to ray place of work in the morning,” said Law- 
rence Judd, as he bade his cousin good-night at 
the door of the parsonage. 

Judge of the young man’s astonishment when, 
entering the basement, he saw the stoker at his 
work. 

^^You here!” he exclaimed. “You doing 
such work as this ! ” 

“ I have done it for eleven years,” was replied. 

“ And is this the way you have earned money 
for me ? ” 


292 


The A ttic Tenant, 


“ Whatever money I have earned has been 
earned here.” 

“You, a graduate of one of our best colleges, 
doing such work as this ! It is too much. 
You are not going to stay here.” 

“ This is my last day. It may seem strange 
to you, but I shall leave with some regrets. It 
was very hard for me here at first, but I needed 
hard work, and I could hide myself here from 
all who had ever known me. Allan, it was the 
love of liquor which brought me here, although 
not a drop has passed my lips for twelve 
years. A year of wandering among strangers 
made this place, rough as it is, a haven of 
rest for me. This evening you must see me in 
my home.” 

“ I cannot understand it,” said Allan Schuy- 
ler to Stark Galvin, as they were walking to- 
gether that afternoon. “ How my Cousin Law- 
rence has lived all these years, is a mystery to 
me. He is highly educated, and as a student 
he was popular with his classmates. Mr. Her- 
mon told me this, and it is easy to see that he 
is in every way a superior man.” 

“ He is a grand man anywhere,” was replied. 
“He chose to be silent in regard to his past 
life, and his silence was respected. What he 
has been does not matter so much as what he 
is ; a Christian gentleman who would grace the 


A Revelation, 


293 

highest position, while the humblest cannot 
make him less a gentleman.” 

The two echoed each other’s sentiments, but 
to one the expression of these sentiments had a 
far deeper significance than it could possibly 
have to his companion. He was beginning to 
realize something of what had been done for 
him. Eleven years of lonely work in a cellar ! 

At evening, as he climbed the stairs of the 
tenement-house, and standing in the attic, 
looked around upon its scanty furnishing, he 
was ready to fall at the feet of his benefactor. 

“ Is this the only home you have had % ” he 
asked in a husky voice. 

“ The only home I have had for eleven years. 
It offered me a shelter and a place of rest. No 
one who had ever known me would look for 
me here, and I wished to be forgotten.” 

“ You, in such a place as this ! How could 
you live ? How did you live ? ” 

“ Plainly and defiantly, and the defiance made 
it all the harder. I hated the world when I 
came here, and I think I hated myself. I had 
lost everything. I had lost faith in God and 
man. I had thrown aside my Bible. My care 
for you and my determination to make your 
father feel my power over him was all which 
gave me any interest in life. 

“Now it is different. My heart is full of 


294 


The Attic Tenant. 


gratitude for all God^s goodness to me, and I 
believe He will let me do some work for Him 
w^hich will make others better and happier.” 

“ Cousin Lawrence, you are the grandest man 
I ever knew. I don’t wonder everybody praises 
you. And I — what shall I do to prove my 
gratitude to you ? ” 

“Nothing for me; everything for yourself.” 

“ But I wish to make up to you in some way 
for your hard life. You were not brought up 
to work in a cellar and live in a garret. It 
must have been terribly hard for you.” 

“ It was, and it will be hard for me now to 
go out into the world again and be recognized 
by old friends. That will be a severe trial to 
me, yet I have decided that it must be done. I 
will not ask you to share my supper with me, 
for I know you have already been well served. 
I will light a fire so that you will be comforta- 
ble, and after I have eaten we will go over to 
the chapel, unless you prefer to spend the even- 
ing here.” 

The frugal repast was spread. Allan Schuy- 
ler did not see of what it consisted, but judged 
there was little more than bread and water. 

The warmth of the fire began to diffuse itself 
through the room. The plants which had been 
carefully protected from the cold by wrappings 
of paper were uncovered. Books were laid 


A Revelation. 


295 


upon the table; the Bible occupying a conspic- 
uous place. Curtains were drawn and a large 
arm-chair moved from the corner it had occu- 
pied. 

“ Now you see my home at its best,” said the 
host, who had meanwhile exchanged his work- 
ing dress for a good business suit. “ It was not 
always as well furnished as it is now.” 

‘‘ Cousin Lawrence, I wonder more and more, 
and my burden of gratitude grows heavier. 
Tell me what to do ; the harder the better. 'You 
cannot ask too much of me.” 

“ Allan, will you sign a pledge never to taste 
of any alcoholic drink? This includes beer, 
cider, and all patent bitters. There is no safety 
for you and me in abstinence which does not 
include all these. It will cost you something 
to keep such a pledge, but at the same time it 
will be a great help to you.” 

Write the pledge. Cousin Lawrence, and I 
will sign it. You have a right to demand any- 
thing of me. But I must stay near you, until 
I have grown stronger. I cannot go back to 
Mr. Hermon until ” 

“ I understand all about it, Allan. We have 
some property to look after that will give us 
an object for travel when you are tired of stay- 
ing with good Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair.” 

I don’t think I could ever be tired of them. 


296 


The A ttic Tenant. 


but I may be tired of staying in one place. I 
am like a child needing some one to guide and 
restrain me.” 

Words could not express more than did the 
pledge to which Allan Schuyler affixed his name, 
saying as he did so : 

“ Now for strength to keep it. If I break 
it ” 

You will not break it. You will not 
perjure yourself. You are too honorable for 
that.* Let us ask God to give you all needed 
strength.” 

They knelt there together in that attic room; 
one looking back upon a long, weary struggle, 
thankful for victory won ; the other just gird- 
ing on his armor, distrustful of himself and 
shrinking from the conflict. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


HOW THEY MET. 

‘‘ You remember Judd,” remarked one gentle- 
man to another. 

“Lawrence Judd of our class?” was asked 
in reply. 

“ Yes.” 

“ I remember him perfectly, although I don’t 
know when I have thought of him. I have not 
seen him since we left college, but I heard he 
became utterly reckless and squandered every 
dollar of his property. It was a great pity, too, 
for one so bright to sacrifice himself in that 
way. He was quite remarkable as a mathema- 
tician, and everybody thought he would make 
one of the best civil engineers in the country. 
But what made you think of him this morn- 
ing ? ” . 

“ I saw him and heard him talk for five min- 
utes last evening. I went to the People’s 
Chapel at the west end. I had heard so much 
about it, I wanted to see it for myself There 
I saw Lawrence Judd. He has aged fast, and 

(297) 


The Attic Tenant, 


298 

his face is deeply lined, but his voice had the 
old ring; so there was no mistaking him. After 
the service we had a little talk about college 
days ; but for the life of me, I could not muster 
courage to ask him any questions about him- 
self.” 

“ How could he be one of the speakers in 
that chapel ? He used to profess an utter dis- 
belief in religion and all religious service.’^ 

There has been time for a change in his sen- 
timents since then. He talked like a Christian, 
last evening, and that chapel has been dedicated 
to Christian service ; so he could be there for no 
other purpose. He was never a hypocrite.” 

Never. I must hunt him up and renew our 
acquaintance. But about that chapel. People 
say there is a good work being done there. 
When the Galvins came into possession of their 
uncle’s property, it was thought by many that 
they were throwing away money on quixotic 
schemes.” 

It did seem as though they began to build 
without counting the cost; but Mr. Dabney 
has been dead less than a year and a half, and 
already the result proves the wisdom of the out- 
lay they have made.” 

“ Is the chapel completed ? ” 

“Not entirely. The audience-room is yet to 
be finished, but that will be done before winter, 


Hozv They Met. 299 

and it will then be as well equipped a church 
as there is in the city.” 

‘‘And do you understand that the Galvins 
pay the entire running expenses ? ” 

“ All who attend the chapel services pay as 
they please, and the Galvins make up the de- 
ficiency. They can afford to do it too.” 

This was true, regarded from more than one 
stand-point. They felt amply repaid by the'- 
good accomplished ; besides which, it w^as uni- 
versally conceded that the increase in the value 
of their real estate would more than cover the 
entire outlay. 

“ In doing what we have, we did not think of 
the benefit it would be to us pecuniarily,” re- 
marked Stark Galvin, when this subject was 
under consideration. “We were simply anx- 
ious to do some Christian work, and as we had 
often thought what we would do if we had the 
means, we improved the first opportunity. 

“ Before we had been here a month, we de- 
cided to build a chapel. Then, of course, we 
must have a parsonage, and from that, one 
thing has come after another, and the end is 
not yet. But we have not done it all. We 
have had help. Some good families have come 
into our church, and we are looking forward to 
better things in the future. 

“ The saloons in this part of the city are go- 


300 


The Attic Tenant, 


ing. Some of the worst are already gone, and 
more will follow soon. For what has been ac- 
complished in this department of work, I take 
no credit to myself. Others have done it.” 

Lawrence Judd was especially active in this 
direction. In visiting Mr. Tremlow, he had 
done more than merely obtain the release of 
Dockam, and money for the woman who had 
thought herself George Lambert’s wife. 

Gambling-rooms were closed, and the old 
man became more wary. Many of his plans 
he was forced to abandon; relinquishing his 
hold upon men who had long served him, and 
glad to purchase their silence at their own price. 
He occasionally met the man who had demanded 
so much, and always with fear, although in truth 
he had nothing to fear, unless he gave further 
provocation. 

Terry Brennan had his own ways of working 
for temperance. He distributed tracts and leaf- 
lets, where a word for the cause would not be 
allowed. They were pushed under saloon doors, 
tacked upon window -shutters, and sometimes 
even left upon counters. This, of course, was a 
great annoyance to the proprietors, who threat- 
ened vengeance upon their enemy, if they could 
only discover him. 

Mace was one of the first to yield ; acknowl- 
edging that he had been wrong, and thankfully 


301 


How They Met. 

accepting assistance in obtaining more honor- 
able employment. He became one of the most 
constant attendants upon the chapel services, 
and an interested scholar in Mr. Sinclair’s Bible- 
class. 

Allan Schuyler, too, was there ; having chosen 
to remain near his cousin, with whom he was 
studying. The novelty of his position and the 
new interests constantly appealing to him for 
such aid as he could give, helped him to con- 
quer the infatuation which had held such power 
over him. Care was taken to impress him with 
a sense of the danger of moderate drinking, no 
less than the sin and shame of gross intemper- 
ance. 

He would never know the full enormity of 
his father’s guilt, but in reply to repeated ques- 
tions, he was told of “Molly,” to whom he de- 
sired an introduction, and for whom he ex- 
pressed the strongest sympathy; treating her 
with marked respect, which did much to miti- 
gate her grief for the wrongs she had suffered. 

Under Mrs. Daly’s induence, and encouraged 
by the good woman’s words of comfort and 
counsel, she grew to be more cheerful and hope- 
ful. She even assisted her friend in some de- 
partments of work, so that she felt herself not 
wholly useless in the world. 

Mrs. Daly no longer lived in the close quar- 


.^02 


The Attic Te^iaiit. 


ters which had been her home for years. With 
the assistance of his sons, Mr. Abrams provided 
a larger tenement in a better locality. They were 
working their way up, the boys making such 
progress in study as to quite shame their father. 

“Murkland and I are pretty near in the same 
boat,” he said one day. “ He is a great hulk of 
a fellow, good for nothing but to earn all the 
money he can for his family. They are so far 
ahead of him, now, he wouldn’t know what to 
do with himself if he should come back. I 
don’t suppose they’d know what to do with 
him either. It’s a pretty hard case for a man, 
to have his children get so far ahead of him ; 
but mercy ! I wouldn’t put a straw in the way 
of my boys. They’ve got a chance, and I’m 
glad of it. I’ve got a chance, too, and I’m try- 
ing to make the most of it, but I can’t keep up 
with the boys.” 

In putting himself on a level with Murkland, 
Mr. Abrams did not do himself justice ; since 
the latter was by far the coarser man. What 
should be done with this man was a question 
often discussed by his wife and children, who 
could not but pity him in his loneliness, al- 
though they were still unwilling to receive him 
back. The result of every discussion was the 
same. They would wait until Providence made 
their duty plain. 


303 


How They Met. 

Florence was still under training with Janet 
Burgen ; bright, active, and happy, devoted to 
every member of the Galvin family, whose 
praises were constantly upon her lips. It was 
a favorite saying with her, that they were help- 
ing everybody and everybody loved them. 

Terry Brennan’s prediction that “ we are all 
going up,” proved to be true in its best sense, 
while the graces of life were by no means neg- 
lected. 

Not only the dwellers in the tenement-house,, 
but the occupants of the twenty cottages on 
Dabney Street, had become more intelligent, 
more thrifty, and more refined in their manners 
than when Varney Galvin first called upon 
them as their landlord. Above all, they re- 
spected the Sabbath, attended Sabbath services, 
and many of them had become Christians. 

The mystery which had surrounded “ Stoker 
Judd” was so far solved, that all knew he had 
been the victim of intemperance, and thus 
brought himself to poverty. It was known, 
also, that he had recently inherited a few thou- 
sand dollars, and that he was assured, at no 
distant day, of a desirable position as civil en- 
gineer. 

The transformation in his appearance had 
been gradual, yet it was none the less striking. 
From being taciturn and reserved he had be- 


304 


The A ttic Tenant, 


come genial and companionable. Mr. Sawyer 
said of him : 

“ He is the most agreeable gentleman I have 
ever met, not excepting Mr. Sinclair, who al- 
ways knows just what to say to everybody he 
meets, stranger or friend. I hope now to live 
to see Mr. Judd in a home of his own ; such a 
home as he deserves, and I am sure would help 
to make happy.” 

When Allan Schuyler visited Mr. and Miss 
Hermon he expressed the same desire, asking 
many questions in regard to the woman his 
cousin had loved. 

“ She is worthy of any man’s love,” said Mr. 
Hermon. “ She was a lovely girl when she be- 
came engaged to Lawrence Judd, and if they 
had been married then, it is possible that she 
might have saved him, although he was by no 
means worthy of her. I was disposed to think 
better of him than did many others. I knew 
something of the influences at work to drag 
him down. Since I saw him last, I have 
thought if he and Christine Kneeland should 
meet, there might be a renewal of their engage- 
ment.” 

“ I wish there might be, Mr. Hermon, and I 
wish I could bring them together. I should 
feel then that I had made some expiation for 
one of my father’s sins.” „ 


Hew They Met, 305 

“ I too wish they could meet, and if it is to 
be it will be, without our intervention.” 

It was to be, but who could have dreamed 
under what circumstances ! 

There was a railroad collision, in which ^ 
woman was buried under such a mass of wreck- 
age, it seemed impossible that she could be res- 
cued before the flames should reach her. 

She must and shall be saved,” exclaimed a 
man who had escaped uninjured, and who, leav- 
ing all others, turned his attention to this one 
woman. 

Working with what seemed superhuman 
strength ; calling for assistance when his strength 
no longer suflSced, he accomplished the rescue to 
And that he had saved Christine Kneeland, who, 
looking up into his face, murmured : 

“ Lawrence, Lawrence, my love ! ” 

“ My love, my love ! Thank God I have 
found you,” he murmured in reply, and clasp- 
ing her close in his arms, he carried her to a 
place of safety. 

So they met, never more to part while life 
should last. 

Years have passed since then. Many elegant 
and commodious houses have been built upon 
land belonging to the Galvin estate, one of 
which is occupied by Lawrence Judd, with his 
wife ai\d two children. 


3o6 The Attic Tenant. 

On tlie same street lives Allan Schuyler, 
with Mercy Galvin as mistress of his home. 
Varney, too, has his home near by, while Stark 
remains in the old brick house, wedded and 
happy ; Cousin Janet retaining her place of 
usefulness. 

Fmm the People’s Chapel has gone out an 
influence for good no man can estimate. The 
Galvins have done a wonderful work, but of all 
their work none has been more far-reaching in 
its results than that of winning from his seclu- 
sion the attic tenant. 


THE EJSTD. 


a;. 


f- 






